


and i'm so furious (at you for making me feel this way)

by dharmainitiative



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, additional appearances from the SMH team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-06 12:39:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15194981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharmainitiative/pseuds/dharmainitiative
Summary: When Derek Nurse walks into Potions class on the first day of his sixth year, he’s pretty sure he knows what he’s getting into -- until William Poindexter is assigned to be his partner for the entire year.Or, a Hogwarts AU.





	and i'm so furious (at you for making me feel this way)

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been working on this for like eight months. Needless to say, this fic is my Child and I'm so excited that I'm finally sharing it with other people! Shoutout to everyone who helped me sort the SMH characters into Hogwarts houses (aka the Gay Hockey Hell squad) and also shout out to Jenna who constantly bugged me about this fic and kept asking when it would be posted...here it is, my friend.
> 
> PSA: I started working on this fic waaay before Ngozi posted which houses she sorted all the characters in, so essentially I'd already made up my mind about which characters I wanted in each house. Some of my sortings were the same as Ngozi's, and some of Ngozi's sortings made me rethink and change my sortings, but for quite a few characters I went with my original sortings because a) it was necessary for the plot of this fic or b) I felt very passionate about my own sortings. (I mean, come on. Nursey as a GRYFFINDOR???)
> 
> SO here's the sortings:
> 
> Gryffindor: Jack, Shitty, Lardo, and Ford  
> Slytherin: Whiskey and Carl from the Aces  
> Ravenclaw: Nursey, Ransom, and Tango  
> Hufflepuff: Dex, Chowder, Bitty, Holster, and Farmer
> 
> Also, Jack, Bitty, Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, and Holster are seventh-years in this fic, Nursey, Dex, Chowder, and Farmer are sixth-years, and Whiskey, Tango, and Ford are fifth-years. 
> 
> Also, before reading, please know that I am a VERY casual Harry Potter fan, so I'm sure that a lot of the details in this fic are not actually how Hogwarts works. I googled a lot of stuff while writing this, but I'm sure I got a lot wrong, so...sorry lol
> 
> Title is from Gorgeous by Taylor Swift

  **september.**

When Derek Nurse walks into Potions class on the first day of his sixth year, he’s pretty sure he knows what he’s getting into.

Sure, with his accident prone nature and tendency to make things accidentally explode once a month, Potions has never been his easiest class. It’s usually his lowest grade, too, though he always manages to scrape by. But this year, Derek is _determined_ to do well. And anyway, Justin Oluransi, seventh-year and prefect for Ravenclaw, is the student assistant in Derek’s class, so he at least has someone to go to if he needs help.

Regardless, Derek is midway through his fifth peptalk of the hour when he walks into the classroom, sees his assigned seat, and freezes.

Professor Slughorn has set the classroom up so that there are two students per table — one Ravenclaw and one Hufflepuff — and next to Derek’s empty seat is none other than William J. Poindexter.

Derek has found himself well acquainted with Poindexter in his past five years at Hogwarts. This is largely due to the fact that they share a lot of mutual friends: Eric Bittle, a seventh-year Hufflepuff who’s friends with nearly every student; Adam Birkholtz, a seventh-year Hufflepuff attached to Justin Oluransi at the hip; and Christopher Chow, a Hufflepuff in Derek’s year who happens to be both Derek _and_ Will’s best friend.

Needless to say, they run in similar circles, and even if they didn’t, Derek has faced against the Hufflepuff Quidditch team countless times. Will is one of the team’s best players — he’d be hard to miss.

The problem is, Derek doesn’t like William Poindexter — can’t stand the guy, in fact. It has nothing to do with house rivalry, or even Quidditch team rivalry, but it does have a little something to do with the fact that Will hated Derek first. Sometime in their first year at Hogwarts, he evidently came to the conclusion that Derek “had it easy” and had “never had to work hard for anything,” or something along those lines.

Derek was used to hearing that argument used against Ravenclaws all the time — coupled with some bullshit about how Ravenclaws are “naturally smart,” which doesn’t matter as much as “working hard to be smart” — but for someone to think it about him, specifically, stung. Sure, he’s more passionate about learning than some, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t work as hard as anyone else. He has to read through his papers at _least_ five times to deem them worthy of turning in, and he can’t remember the last time he passed a Transfiguration exam without pulling an all-nighter beforehand. 

And anyway, Derek is black, and he grew up with two moms. There’s not all that much that’s come _easy_ for him.

Though, in Derek’s professional opinion, Will would probably find that things came easier for _him_ if he bothered to take the time to pull the stick out of his ass. But that's another matter entirely. 

Sighing, Derek drops his bag on the floor and slides into his seat. “‘How’s it going, Poindexter?”

Will turns to Derek with something that can only be described as pure dread on his face. “ _Please_ tell me that’s not your assigned seat.” 

“Chill,” Derek says, and Will predictably rolls his eyes. “Not everyone is lucky enough to be graced with my stunning good looks and winning charm for an entire year.”

“And by that, you mean for the next two months,” Will says, deadpan, “Until you inevitably drop something that causes the both of us to explode.”

“Wow, who would've thought you had so much faith in me?” Derek places his hand over his heart in mock surprise. “I would’ve given myself no less than two weeks.”

Will groans and buries his face in his hands.

Just then, Professor Slughorn appears at the front of the classroom and clears his throat. “Good morning, students,” he says. “I hope you had a chance to read the required text for last night, because you’re about to have an exam on it.”

The entire class groans as Justin begins to pass out the exams. When he walks by their desk, Derek glances pointedly at Will, then turns to Justin with a pleading look. He merely laughs and places two exams on Derek’s table.

 _So much for having someone in my corner,_ Derek thinks.

“By the way,” Professor Slughorn announces as Derek begins to scrawl his name at the top of the paper. “If you haven’t already, I suggest you become familiar with the person seated next to you. You’ll be required to do all projects with them over the course of the year.”

Derek sighs, banging his head against the desk.

\--

Unsurprisingly, Potions class turns out to be just as insufferable as Derek imagined. Will is the biggest pain in the ass he’s ever met, and he refuses to speak to Derek unless offering a sarcastic comment. Furthermore, it seems that everything he does gets on Will’s nerves, which of course leaves him with no choice but to try to get on his nerves as often as possible. The more Derek pokes and prods, the more Will’s skin starts to match the color of his hair, which is far more interesting than Slughorn’s lectures, to say the least.

One day, when Derek is recounting to Chris Chow the story of how he’d gotten on Will’s nerves on that particular day, Chris shakes his head.

“If you were as committed to paying attention in class as you were to driving Will up the wall, you’d probably have a better grade,” he points out.

Derek just laughs.

Just like Slughorn warned them, Derek is forced to work on many assignments with Will. The assignments aren’t tough, necessarily, but it’s pretty much impossible to get Will to agree on a time to meet. He always claims he’s got something going on — another class, or another assignment, or Quidditch practice.

Finally, Derek’s had enough.

“Look,” he snaps one day in class. “I don’t want to work with you either. But we have to get together and do this assignment or else we’re going to fail. So get over it and pick a time for us to work on it together.”

Will narrows his eyes, and then sighs. "Fine. I'm free tomorrow after lunch."

“Perfect. We can meet in the library?”

Will nods.

The next day, Derek gets to the library at 1:30 to find Will sitting alone at one of the study tables, looking more and more agitated. “You’re late, Nurse,” he snaps as soon as Derek sets his bag down.

Derek sighs. “I know, I know. But Trelawney’s lesson today was really confusing, so I stayed after class to ask her about it, only it took longer than I expected — ”

Will shakes his head. “Whatever. It’s fine, I guess,” he says, though his tone conveys the exact opposite. Derek grits his teeth, annoyed at being cut off, but silently slides into the seat across from Will. “I guess we should start by finding a book that details the instructions for making the Draught of Peace?”

“Chill,” Derek agrees, and ignores Will’s eye-roll.

Things start out smoothly enough. They find the right book quickly, and it doesn’t take them too long to find the page that lists the instructions, either. But things escalate quickly when they begin arguing over who has the better handwriting to write out the list (Derek does, but Will refuses to admit it) and who should be in charge of collecting the ingredients (Will should, but Derek refuses to admit it.)

Thirty minutes later, they’re kicked out of the library.

“This is all _your_ fault,” Will huffs as he angrily marches down the corridor.

Derek scoffs. “Me? You’re the one that started it!”

Will sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We just need to figure out how we’re going to get this assignment done by Friday.”

“Might would be easier to figure out if you weren’t so impossible to work with,” Derek says, which comes out a lot harsher than he intends it to. For a second, he regrets it, but then Will’s face hardens.

“If I’m so impossible to work with, then maybe we should just do our work separately,” he grits out.

“Fine by me,” Derek scoffs.

“Good. I never wanted to work with you, anyway,” Will snaps, and angrily marches away.

Friday, they compile their separate work and hand it to Slughorn together. The next class, they get their assignment back, and the grade is incredibly poor. _It looks like you didn’t even try to work together on this at all,_ Slughorn has written in the margins of their paper.

Derek lets out a heavy sigh and looks over at Will. “Maybe we should try this again.”

\--

They get their next assignment two weeks later, and agree to work on it together in an empty classroom so that they won’t disturb anyone when they inevitably begin to argue. Sure enough, the arguing begins about ten minutes after they arrive, when Derek accidentally knocks over a bottle of African sea salt, spilling it all over the floor.

“Look,” Will says finally, as Derek is mid-shout. “It’s clear that we both have our own specific strengths and weaknesses in this class. I’m better at figuring out how much of each ingredient we need and being precise with mixing the ingredients together, and you’re better at finding the ingredients in the first place and writing up a report on what the potion is supposed to do. So why don’t we just work together and stick to the stuff we’re good at so we don’t fail this class.” Then he adds, “Or get blown up by you accidentally knocking something over. Whichever happens first.”

Derek wants to disagree, just for the sake of it, but realizes he can’t come up with a solid argument. “That’s...a good idea, honestly,” he says finally.

Will rolls his eyes. “I have them from time to time.”

They finish the assignment and turn it in the next day, receiving an “Outstanding” for their grade. In the margins, Professor Slughorn has written, _Good job! Looks like you two make a great team._

Feeling a small surge of pride, Derek turns to Will and smirks. “A great team, huh, Poindexter?”

Will shakes his head. “Don’t get any ideas, Nurse. I still hate you.”

Derek laughs. “Ditto.”

**october.**

Derek gets sick every fall, without fail. It’s always really terrible on the first day — cough, runny nose, inability to stop sneezing, the works. When he was younger, he and his older sister would use a spell to get rid of the symptoms. But after that horrendously backfired when he was ten (he’s never been able to look at frogs the same way again), he’s dealt with his colds the muggle way ever since. He does start to feel better after the first day, but the first twenty-four hours are nearly unbearable, hence why Derek is spending his Tuesday afternoon lying in bed instead of attending class, and is trying not to feel tremendously guilty about it.

“You’re _sick_ ,” Chris had said when Derek made an attempt to get out of bed earlier that day. “Your professors will understand. It’s not like you’re going to be of any use in class, anyway. No one will be able to hear the lecture with you sneezing that loud.”

Chris’ reassurances had helped a little bit, but then he’d given Derek the tomato soup Eric Bittle had sent him, which helped even more.

Derek honestly isn’t sure what he did to deserve Chris Chow as a friend, but he’s never questioned it.

The worst part of being sick, though, Derek thinks, is how boring and lonely it is. Chris left earlier to go to class, and Justin won’t be back to keep him company for another two hours. He’s just beginning to consider searching for some parchment and a quill in an attempt to write a poem about loneliness or something equally as dramatic, when he hears the door to the dormitory open, and nearly falls out of bed in surprise when he sees William Poindexter stop at the foot of his bed.

“Oh. Uh.” Will looks at Derek cautiously. “I thought you’d be asleep.”

“I…” Derek doesn’t even know where to begin with this situation. “It’s three o’clock in the afternoon.”

Will’s shoulders start to hunch up towards his ears, which are beginning to grow pink. “Yeah, but, you’re sick. I sleep a lot when I’m sick.”

“How did you even know I was sick?”

“Chris told me.”

“Okay…” Derek says. “But why are you here?”

Will’s face begins to take on the same shade of red as his ears. “I took notes for you.”

This sentence is so shocking and outstanding that it takes Derek a good two minutes to come up with a response. “I...what for?”

“Because you needed them?” Will says, sounding more defensive than Derek has ever heard him.

“Whoa, chill, Poindexter.”

Will lets out a groan. “Look, if you fail the class, I’m probably going to fail, too, so. Here.” He shoves the papers in his hands towards Derek’s chest, and Derek fumbles to take them. “Anyway. I’ve gotta go, so. Bye.”

“Bye,” Derek says lamely as Will exits the room without another word, almost as if he was never there.

He looks down at the stack of paper he’s been given, and sure enough, there’s Will’s notes, scribbled in ink with his unmistakably sloppy handwriting. At the top of the first page, “Feel better” is scrawled in handwriting just as messy as the rest of the notes.

Surprised, confused, and oddly touched, Derek sets the notes on the desk next to his bed. “Huh,” he says aloud as he lies back down, and thinks to himself that a nap might not be such a bad idea after all.

\--

Ever since Derek and Will figured out a method that worked for their Potions assignments, things haven’t been quite as awful as they were in September. Still, they get along best when they interact with each other as little as possible, and their interactions to date are still pretty hostile. Much to the displeasure of the rest of the Hogwarts population, however, their hostility is not confined only to the Potions classroom, and makes its way to the Quidditch pitch more often than not.

Derek has been a beater for Ravenclaw since his second year at Hogwarts — the same year, coincidentally, that Poindexter was appointed to the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, also as a beater.

Will is a great player — he plays like he does everything else: passionately and determinedly. But then again, Hufflepuff has pretty great players all-around, including Eric Bittle, chaser, Chris Chow, keeper, and Adam Birkholtz, another beater. They win almost every match against Ravenclaw, a tradition they’ll likely maintain this year, as well, though Derek secretly thinks Ravenclaw has a chance with Justin as beater and captain.

So yeah, Will’s a good player, but Derek is good, too. In fact, Derek feels like he’s almost better when he plays against Will — he’s quicker, more determined, and more focused.

This is, of course, something he’d never admit out loud unless forcibly coerced, but still.

It’s not unusual for Derek and Will to fight at Quidditch matches. In fact, it happens almost every time they play together: off the pitch, on the pitch, and up in the air. This particular game is no different — although maybe it is, somehow, because Derek knows that Will is extra pissed at him for accidentally spilling flobberworm mucus on his bag the other day, nevermind the fact that Derek used a spell to fix it.

Will hasn’t so much as spared him a glance since the beginning of the game, though, so Derek thinks maybe he’s in the clear, or maybe he’s forgotten. That is until about fifteen minutes later, when a bludger grazes right past his head.

He turns sharply to face Will, who looks entirely too innocent, and narrows his eyes. Two can play at that game, he thinks, and whacks the bludger back at him with just as much force. Will narrowly avoids falling off his broom.

The majority of the rest of the match carries on with Will and Derek increasingly finding new ways to antagonize each other. Will flies too close to Derek, almost knocking him off his broom and causing him to miss a bludger that passes by. Derek _does_ shove Will off his broom, later in the game, but he manages to grab ahold of the broom with his hands before plummeting to the ground. He feels a little bad about it — he’d only wanted to startle him a bit, not knock him entirely off — but when Will climbs back on top of his broom and sends him a vengeful look, all Derek feels is a twinge of panic.

Forty-five minutes into the match, Justin calls a time-out to give his team some final pointers. He finishes by narrowing his eyes at Derek. “And Nurse,” he says. “Cut it out. This is Quidditch, not an excuse to practice targeted bullying or your weird version of foreplay.”

A little embarrassed, Derek takes Justin’s advice and dials it down, spending the rest of the match subtly distracting Will and causing him to miss three bludgers. The match ends nearly thirty minutes later, when Lewis Grier, a Ravenclaw third-year, catches the snitch.

After celebrating with the rest of his team, Derek spots Will and Chris on his way back to the castle. He’s about to say something to them, but the angry scowl on Will’s face gives him a pause. It turns out Derek needn’t have said anything, anyway, because as soon as Will spots him, he snarls, “What the hell is your problem, Nurse?”

“ _My_ problem?” Derek scoffs. “You’re the one that threw the first bludger!”

“You knocked me off my broom!” Will cries. “I could’ve _died_.”

Derek cringes. “Okay, that was an accident, and I’m sorry.”

“Because that makes everything better, right?” Will says sarcastically.

“Guys…” Chris says, concern in his voice as he glances between the two of them.

Derek feels sort of bad about Chris somehow always ending up in the middle of their fights. And anyway, to be fair, Poindexter _is_ righteous in his anger — Derek would be just as angry if Will knocked _him_ off his broom. But still, he says, “Dude, chill. Why are you so mad?”

Will looks at him in disbelief. “We just lost the match,” he says slowly, as if Derek is a child and will have a hard time understanding the concept. “Because of _you._ ”

Derek blinks in surprise. “I mean, yeah, sure, I caused you to miss a few points, but Lewis caught the snitch, so...we still would’ve won.” Will’s scowl still isn’t going away, though, so Derek says, “Poindexter, it’s just a game.”

Will looks at Derek like he’s grown a second head, and then shakes his head. “You know, your inability to take anything seriously truly astounds me.”

“ _Will…_ ” Chris says warningly.

“Are you  _serious?_ ” Derek demands, defensive and incredulous. “Look, Poindexter, you don’t know the _first thing_ about — ”

Will cuts him off. “Just...leave me alone, Nurse. Okay?”

Will turns away from him and quickens his pace back towards the castle, and Derek turns to Chris, who just sighs, shrugs, and follows after him, leaving Derek staring after the two of them.

**november.**

Sometimes, Derek thinks to himself, despite its subjects, professors, and magical population, Hogwarts is just like any other ordinary high school.

He finds this thought especially relevant on a particular Friday afternoon when he hears Chad Williamson, a sixth-year Slytherin, say very loudly, “How many times has Poindexter worn that shirt this week?”

Derek, as well as the rest of the courtyard, looks up to find Chad Williamson and Becky Tillman, Chad’s girlfriend, loudly conversing about Will, who sits not even three feet away from them, and can very clearly hear what they’re saying.

“I think this is the third time,” Becky says, and Chad snickers. Will isn’t looking at them, but his ears are red and his shoulders are hunched, an expression Derek has become very familiar with over the course of his time spent at Hogwarts.

“You’d think that if he was going to wear a shirt that often, he’d at least pick one that’s worth looking at,” Chad replies. Becky lets out an obnoxious snort and Derek watches as Will’s shoulders hunch further.

The shirt in question is a blue flannel, one that, admittedly, Derek has noticed before, but there’s nothing particularly offending about it. In fact, Derek has thought to himself on one or two occasions that the shirt sort of goes nicely with Will’s hair. Not that he’d ever mention it out loud, of course.

“I think he just wears his robes throughout the week and recycles, like, two or three shirts on the weekend,” Becky says. “Maybe we should start, like, a record of how many shirts he wears in one week.”

“There’s that one sweater with a stain at the bottom,” Chad reminds her.

“Oh, yeah. And the green one that’s a little big?”

Disgusted, Derek turns to Ford, a fifth-year Gryffindor, who sits next to him and watches the exchange with a frown on her face. “Why doesn’t he just punch them or something?” He asks.

She shrugs, shaking her head.

Derek isn’t exactly sure why he does it — it’s not like he and Will have talked much since their fight after the Quidditch match. Maybe it’s because he still feels bad about knocking Will off his broom, or maybe it’s because he’s always wanted to see Chad and Becky put in their place.

Or maybe it’s because the look on Will’s face makes him uncomfortable, and upset, and kind of makes him want to punch something.

Regardless, with a subtle flick of Derek’s wand, Chad and Becky’s faces turn the exact same pattern as Will’s shirt.

There’s a large commotion after that. Chad and Becky both scream, everyone else laughs, and soon the professors are congregating to see what’s the matter. But in the middle of it all, Will looks at Derek from across the courtyard, and his face must give something away, because Will’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

Derek quickly turns away.

The next day in Potions, while they’re silently taking notes, Will nudges Derek’s ankle under the table with his foot. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Why did you do that yesterday?”

Derek hesitates, then shrugs, not looking up. “It wasn’t that bad of a shirt.”

Will doesn’t say anything else, but when Derek glances over out of the corner of his eye, he sees him bite back a smile.

\--

While Derek and Will are working on their last assignment together before the holiday, Derek drops and breaks two bottles, spilling their contents all over the assignment.

Will’s head snaps up from his work. “What the hell, Nurse?”

Derek grimaces sheepishly. “Sorry?”

Will’s angry expression doesn’t change, though, and his face begins to turn a blotchy red.

“Look, it’s chill. I’ll fix it,” Derek says, and waves his wand. The glass shards fit themselves back together perfectly, the liquid pours back into them with ease, and the dark stain on their assignment disappears. “See? All better.”

Will glares even harder, if that’s possible. “These are, what, the ninth and tenth bottles you’ve dropped all year?”

Derek grits his teeth. “I haven’t even broken anything in like a month and I _said_ I was _sorry._ ”

But Will doesn’t look any less angry, and grows increasingly more irritable as they continue their work, storming out of the classroom once they’re finally finished.

Derek finds himself still angry about it that night after dinner, as he and seventh-year Gryffindors Larissa Duan (who goes by Lardo) and Shitty Knight (who goes by...well, Shitty) are sprawled across the floor of the Ravenclaw common room. Lardo’s head is lying in Shitty’s lap, and Derek’s legs are stretched out on top of Lardo’s, and Derek is enigmatically recounting the story from earlier that afternoon.

“I swear, this year is going to end with either me murdering Poindexter, or Poindexter murdering me,” Derek declares when he’s finished. He thinks he hears Lardo snort, and continues on, “Regardless, _someone_ will be murdered.”

“I thought you two were starting to get along,” Shitty pipes up.

“I think we are, too, sometimes,” Derek says. “But then he screws everything up and makes me want to murder him again.”

“ _He_ screws everything up?” Lardo asks. “Didn’t you almost kill him back in November?”

Derek covers his face with his hands. “That was an _accident_ ,” he whines. Lardo snorts again.

“Look, Derek, I know you hate the guy,” Shitty says. “But Will really isn’t that bad once you get to know him.”

Derek grunts.

“No, I’m serious,” Shitty continues. “Like, yeah, he can be an uptight dick, but I think it’s because he’s under a lot of stress.”

Derek sighs. “It’s not even that he’s uptight, honestly. It's just that he takes everything so damn _personally_. It’s like he thinks everything I do is a personal attack against him.” Shitty hums. “And it’s not like he’s the only one that gets stressed. I’m anxious about something at almost any given moment, but I don’t use it as an excuse to be a dick to everyone.”

“True,” Shitty concedes.

“Here’s a wild idea,” Lardo says. “You could try to talk to him about it?”

“That could work, if every conversation we’ve ever had hadn’t turned into a screaming match within fifteen minutes.”

“Well then, I guess you’re just going to have to suck it up for another seven-ish months,” Shitty says.

“Or until Will murders you,” Lardo adds. “Whichever comes first.”

Derek groans. “At this point, the murder sounds preferable."

**december.**

Derek loves Hogwarts at Christmas time. There’s tinsel, mistletoe, holly, and wreaths at every turn, and the food served at mealtimes gets even better, if that’s possible. Everything just _smells_ and _feels_ better, though that could have something to do with the fact that Derek no longer has to share a room with four other boys.

Sure, he gets a little lonely sometimes, but usually he knows at least _one person_ who stays behind over holiday. This year, however, it seems all of his friends decided to go home for the holiday, so on the third day of Christmas break, Derek finds himself sitting alone at the Ravenclaw table, sprinkling brown sugar into his oatmeal.

He’s just beginning to think about what he’s going to do for the rest of the day when he hears someone from behind him say, “Nurse?”

Derek turns around to see Will, who looks at him hesitantly. “Oh. Hey, Poindexter.”

“You’re staying here for Christmas?” Derek nods. “Why?”

Derek shrugs. “My moms have to work all holiday. They won’t even be in town, so, figured it’d be pointless to go home.”

“That seems…” Will trails off. “Lame,” he finally decides.

Derek snorts. “I guess. It is what it is.” He doesn’t bother mentioning that he’s used to it, for fear of sounding like some sort of sob story. He’s more fortunate than most, he knows — his parents love him no matter what, and without their successful jobs in the Ministry, Derek probably wouldn’t be able to live as comfortably as he does. Still, he wishes he could see them more often. “Anyway, what about you?”

Will frowns, shrugging. “Family lives in Ireland. Couldn’t really afford a ticket.”

“Lame,” Derek repeats, and Will gives him a half-smile, shaking his head.

“Well, uh. Guess I’ll see you around?”

“Sure, Poindexter,” Derek says, giving him a small wave as he walks off, and then resumes eating his oatmeal alone.

\--

In the days leading up to Christmas, Derek starts to notice something is wrong. Pairs of his socks that he could’ve  _sworn_ were there before have started going missing.

At first, he thinks nothing of it. But five days before Christmas, when he’s woken up in the middle of the night by rustling under his bed, he starts to get suspicious. When he looks around, though, there’s nothing there.

In the morning, he’s missing another pair of socks.

He’s not sure why his immediate reaction is to go to Will. They avoid each other outside of class most of the time — their conversation in the dining hall the other day was out of the ordinary. But Derek doesn’t know anyone else staying on school grounds, and he needs confirmation that he’s not going crazy, so right after he gets out of bed, Derek makes his way towards the Hufflepuff common room.

The Hufflepuff common room is located on the same corridor as the kitchens. Instead of a door, there’s a stack of barrels, and in order to enter, one must knock on a specific barrel with the correct pattern. Only Derek doesn’t trust himself to get the pattern right, so, hoping to avoid being sprayed by a barrel of vinegar, he shouts, “Hey! Poindexter!”

“My socks keep going missing,” he says as soon as Will appears in the entryway a few minutes later.

Will stares at him. “It’s eight in the morning, Nurse.”

“My socks keep going missing,” Derek repeats as if Will hadn’t heard him. “At first I thought it was a coincidence, and that maybe I just misplaced them all, but last night I heard rustling underneath my bed and this morning _more_ socks were gone.” Will’s expression doesn’t change, and Derek sighs. “Look, I don’t know anybody else on school grounds right now, so you’re the only person I could go to for help.”

Will hesitates, and then sighs. “Some of my stuff has gone missing, too,” he admits.

“Ha!” Derek cries triumphantly. “For a second I thought I was really going insane.”

“I wouldn’t rule that possibility out just yet,” Will says dryly. “What exactly was your plan going to be after coming to me about this?”

When Derek just smirks, Will sighs again. “I feel like I’m going to regret this.”

\--

“So, here’s the plan,” Derek says. He and Will are both perched on top of Derek’s bed, peering over the edge and waiting to strike. “The box is in the perfect position, and the socks and the shoe are underneath the bed. The creature will grab the stuff, and when I say the word, you’ll do the spell, knock the box over, and it’ll be trapped.”

“What if it’s bigger than the box, though?” Will asks. Derek pales, and Will snickers. “What kind of creature do you think it is, anyway?”

Derek lowers his voice, as if he’s worried the creature will overhear, which seems a bit ridiculous, but he doesn’t want to take any chances. “I’ve heard of these creatures called nifflers? They’re in — ”

“ _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. I know, I’ve read it,” Will says. “You do know that they only steal shiny things, right? Why would they want your socks or my shoes?”

“Oh, shut up. It’s the only theory I have so far. And anyway — ”

“Shh,” Will says suddenly. Derek shuts his mouth, and sure enough, he hears rustling coming from beneath the bed.

Derek’s heart starts beating quickly, and he tenses. As soon as he spots something scurry out from underneath the bed, he shouts, “NOW!” Will recites the spell, and the box knocks over, successfully trapping the creature beneath it.

“Shit,” Derek says, immediately jumping on top of the bed. “What is it?”

“I don’t know — ”

“ _Shit_ ,” Derek curses. Will scrambles off the bed, nervously peering at the box. When it shakes, Will jumps, and Derek shouts again.

“Cut that out!” Will cries, waving a hand at Derek.

Derek jumps down from the bed, moving to crouch behind Will. “See what it is,” he hisses.

“What? Why do I have to do it?”

“You’re closer!”

“You’re such a _baby!_ ”

“Poindexter!”

“FINE, FINE!” Will cries, shoving Derek off of him. Taking a deep breath, he bends down, and after a moment of hesitation, tentatively lifts a corner of the box.

After a moment, Will drops it back down.

“What is it?” Derek asks, crouching further behind Will.

“Nurse.” Will turns around and stares Derek dead in the eyes. “It’s a _rat_.”

Derek visibly deflates. “Oh.” He blinks. “That’s all?”

“ _Yes_ , that’s all.” Will huffs, lifting the box again. Sure enough, a brown rat comes scuttling out, carrying a pair of socks and a shoe with it.

“But what about our stuff?”

Still giving him a deadpan look, Will says, “ _Accio_ my stolen shoes,  _accio_ Derek’s stolen socks and galleons.” Moments later, all of their stolen belongings come flying into the room and deposit themselves neatly on Derek’s bed. “Maybe we should just keep our belongings in a safe place where rats can’t get them, huh?”

Derek gapes at Will, and then he can’t help it. He laughs.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh come on,” Derek says, wheezing slightly. “After all this planning…it just turned out to be a rat? You’ve got to admit it’s kinda funny.”

Will rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling a little bit. “You did lose some of your ‘chill’ for a second there, Nurse.”

Derek punches him in the arm. “Oh, like you’re one to talk! You were freaking out just as much as I was.”

“Whatever,” Will rolls his eyes again, but he’s laughing.

\--

After realizing all their so-called monster hunting has made him hungry, Derek suggests they head to the dining hall, where he and Will eat in silence until Derek says, mouth full of corn bread, “So, genuine question…” Will glances over at him, and he swallows and sets down his fork. “Why do you hate me?”

Will blinks, and Derek tries not to look outwardly nervous. He’s just beginning to regret asking the question in the first place when Will finally says, “I don’t hate you.”

Derek scoffs. “Back in September, you said, and I quote, ‘Don’t get any ideas, Nurse. I still hate you.’”

“You remember that?” Derek shrugs, and Will sighs. “Look, I never _genuinely_ hated you, okay? Disliked you, yes. But that was mostly because…” His face twists. “I was sort of...jealous of you?”

Derek stares at him in disbelief. “Jealous of _me?_ Why?”

Will’s face twists even further. “I don’t know,” he says. “I guess because you’re just so...carefree. You never seem to worry about anything. It’s like everything just comes so easy for you.”

“Poindexter.” Derek says. “I’m black.”

Derek expects Will to argue, but he just sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Derek raises his eyebrows, surprised. “That was…”

“Stupid? Ignorant?” Derek suggests.

“C. All of the above,” Will concedes, and Derek snorts.

“Besides,” Derek says. “I worry about a _lot_ of things. I mean, you saw me back there with that rat, right?” Will laughs a little bit. “I just act like I _don’t_ worry about anything, at all.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s easier, I guess,” Derek says. “Everyone just takes one look at me and expects me to be...well, not chill. So if I act like I don’t care, then I can convince them that they’re wrong.”

Will frowns. “You shouldn’t have to do that.”

“I shouldn’t, but…” Derek shrugs. “That’s just how it is.”

Will looks down. “I’m sorry that I never thought about it like that. I guess it’s just that I get so angry when you tell me to be ‘chill,’ because I feel like there’s so much for me to worry about. I’m muggle-born, and the only reason I’m here at all is because Hogwarts was kind enough to give me money for books and robes. There’s no way my family could’ve afforded it by themselves. And I know they wouldn’t turn me away for slipping up, but I feel like I have to make good grades and do well at Quidditch and not punch some random asshole in the middle of the courtyard because I want to prove that I actually _do_ belong here, you know?”

Derek is quiet for a few moments, stirring his tomato soup with a spoon. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” he says finally. “For what it’s worth, I _am_ sorry, about the ‘chill’ remarks and stuff. I was just trying to antagonize you, but I was being a dick and I shouldn’t have done any of that. But you _do_ realize that it’s not my life’s mission to personally attack you, right? When I drop potions and stuff, it’s an accident. I’m not doing it on purpose to make you mad, so when you _do_ get mad at me, it really sucks.”

Will sighs again. “I know. It’s just you being clumsy, I get that.” He frowns. “I’m sorry. I know I can be an asshole, it’s just...I let stress get the best of me, which obviously isn’t an excuse, but...” He rubs the back of his neck and gives Derek a sheepish look that’s part grimace and part smile. “I have anger issues that I seriously need to work on. Obviously.”

Derek pauses, and sets his spoon down. “Why don’t we just start over?” He suggests. “I’ll promise to stop saying ‘chill’ all the time to purposefully egg you on, and you’ll stop overreacting when I make mistakes, and we’ll both start trying to see things from each other’s points of view. Deal?”

Will gives Derek a small smile. “Deal,” he says, and the two resume their dinner in companionable silence.

**january.**

The third time Derek laughs at Will’s joke, Chris says, “Okay, who are you two and what have you done with Derek and Will?”

The three of them are sitting at the Ravenclaw table for dinner, Chris on one side of the table and Derek and Will across from him. They’ve been there for almost an hour, and the majority of the rest of the students have already left, but all three of them are trying to put off working on assignments, meaning they’re all a little reluctant to leave.

At Chris’ question, Derek turns to look at Will, who is already looking back at him. Will shrugs at him, and Derek turns to Chris. “C, we told you. We made up.”

“Yeah, but I thought you meant you made up in a _we tolerate each other now_ way. Not a _we’re friends now_ way.”

Derek considers this.  _Are_ he and Will friends?

He supposes they are. It was a tentative friendship at first, though. Derek had been extra careful around him, always worried about saying the wrong thing and screwing up. He thinks Will felt the same way, though, because he’d seemed a little tense at times during the rest of their stay alone over the holidays.

But over the past couple of weeks, both he and Will have relaxed a little around each other. Derek has made efforts to avoid making Will angry on purpose, and now when Derek breaks something on accident, Will takes a deep breath instead of immediately jumping down Derek’s throat. (Derek’s also made more of an effort to stop breaking things so often.)

And ever since their talk during the holiday, they haven’t had any issues. Sure, they still argue, but Will’s eyerolls end in grins more often than not, and Derek has come to actually enjoy the time they spend together.

So when Will finally says, “Chris, of course we’re friends,” Derek smiles to himself.

\--

There’s a lot of things Derek loves about Hogwarts, but he thinks one of his favorite things is Hogsmeade.

He doesn’t go as often as he’d like, of course, but his favorite time to go is January, when the village is still covered in dusty snow but is absent of the hustle and bustle of Christmastime. So as he weaves between shops with his friends, Derek tries to enjoy himself, knowing trips to Hogsmeade throughout the school year are limited.

There’s just one problem.

“I’m cold,” Derek announces.

“Yeah, Derek,” Adam Birkholtz says. “We heard you the first five times, too.”

Justin, who has his arm looped through Adam’s, snickers. Derek makes a face at them both.

“Honey, why didn’t you wear warmer clothes?” Eric Bittle, who goes by Bitty, asks.

“I have a coat and a hat,” Derek says defensively.

“Layers, honey,” Bitty says, shaking his head. “ _Layers._ ”

“I literally have never been so cold in my life,” Derek insists. “This is unbearable. Chris, when I’m gone, will you — ”

“Oh my _God,_ Derek,” Will growls from Derek’s left, and yanks off his brown scarf, shoving it into Derek’s hands. “Just stop whining and wear this.”

“Oh my God, Will, thank you,” Derek says gratefully, and hurriedly wraps the scarf around his neck.

“Yeah, yeah,” Will says, but his tone is a bit fonder than it would’ve been a couple months ago.

Bitty turns to Chris with wide eyes. “When you told me they were getting along, I almost didn’t believe you. But now that I’ve seen it with my own two eyes…

“I know,” Chris agrees. “I was surprised, too.”

“We’ve been here almost an hour and they haven’t even screamed at each other _once_ ,” Bitty continues. “I’m baffled.”

Will rolls his eyes, and Derek laughs. “It was a Christmas miracle, Bitty.”

“I’ll admit, not having to break apart shouting matches every Potions class has been quite an adjustment,” Justin says.

“We never got into a shouting match _during_ Potions,” Will insists.

In a companionate gesture, Derek slings his arm across Will’s shoulders. “Don’t listen to them. They’re all just jealous that _they_ haven’t been able to bury the hatchet and become friends with _their_ sworn enemy.”

“ _Sworn enemy?_ ” Will repeats, giving Derek a look. “You are so _dramatic._ ”

“Oh, whatever,” Derek says, pulling away from Will and giving him a shove. Will shoves him back.

“Uh-oh,” says seventh-year Gryffindor Jack Zimmermann, deadpan, his arm across Bitty’s shoulder. “I guess the truce is over.”

Everyone, of course, laughs at this, and Bitty swats his boyfriend on the arm, giggling. If Jack Zimmermann, Gryffindor captain, Head Boy, and Quidditch Robot, makes a _joke_ about your relationship with your formal rival, then it’s safe to say your former rivalry was probably pretty annoying.

“The disrespect,” Derek mutters, shaking his head. Will snorts.

“Hey, can we stop in the Three Broomsticks?” Chris pipes up. “I could really use a Butterbeer.”

“Chris, you read my mind,” Adam says, clapping Chris on the shoulder as he steers the group towards the pub.

Before entering, Derek and Will, who make up the rear of the group, stop at the front door to wipe the snow on their feet off on the doormat. Just before pushing the door open, Derek looks over at Will to see if he’s ready to go inside and takes a small moment to examine the way the light from the window of the pub casts an orange glow across his face, the way the snowflakes have settled gently on his eyelashes, the way his cheeks have gone pink from the cold...

Finally, Will looks up and Derek suddenly realizes he’s been staring at Will this whole time. He swallows.

“What?” Will asks.

“Nothing,” Derek says. “You just have a lot of snow on top of your hat.” He leans over and sweeps the snow off, then adjusts the hat, making sure it’s pulled all the way over his ears. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Will says, his cheeks still pink from the cold, making the freckles on his nose stand out even more.

Derek forces himself to look away and opens the door.

**february.**

Unlike the majority of the human population, Derek has never particularly enjoyed his own birthday.

This is largely due to the fact that Derek’s birthday is on Valentine’s day.

It wasn’t so bad when he was younger, he supposes. His moms would always slip a box of chocolates into his gift bag, and the kids at school would always add “Happy birthday, Derek!” to their Valentine’s Day cards.

But as Derek has grown older, he’s looked forward to his birthday less and less, typically because his friends are often too busy with their significant others to spend time with him. Sure, sometimes they’ll schedule plans with Derek the day before or after the fourteenth, but it’s not the same. And he knows that sounds high maintenance, but come on, it’s _his_ day. He’s allowed to be a _little_ high-maintenance.

Derek is so used to scheduling his own birthday activities around everyone else’s social lives that he expects nothing less for his birthday this year. Which is why he’s surprised when he’s woken up at nine in the morning to a very loud and off-key rendition of the “Happy Birthday” song from none other than Justin Oluransi and Adam Birkholtz, hovering over his bed with a box of muffins.

“Happy birthday, Derek!” Justin says cheerfully as Derek blearily sits up.

From the other end of the room, Derek hears someone sleepily mumble, “Yeah, happy birthday,” and then hears another person mumble something like, “Shut the fuck up and let me go back to sleep.”

“We aren’t going to be around tonight, so we wanted to give you your gift now,” Adam says, thrusting the box of muffins into his hands.

“Are these banana nut?”

“Obviously,” Justin says.

“We baked them yesterday. Oh, and Shitty and Lardo helped,” Adam adds. “They’d kill me if I forgot to give them credit.”

“Yeah, and they’re probably not nearly as good as the pie Bitty is inevitably going to give you later.”

“They’re perfect,” Derek insists. “Thank you.”

“It was no big deal,” Justin says, but still. Adam is his friend, and Justin and Derek are especially close, but Derek wasn’t expecting a gift from either of them. And the fact that they made sure to give Derek a gift first thing on the day of his actual birthday, knowing they had plans for later, well...it means a lot.

After Justin and Adam leave, Derek gets out of bed and goes to the dining hall where he eats breakfast with Shitty and Lardo, making sure to thank them for the muffins and of course they say not to mention it. Then the mail comes, which brings Derek a few birthday cards from his sister and other relatives, including a letter from his parents telling him they’ll be travelling down with his sister to Hogwarts next weekend to treat him to a day at Hogsmeade. Derek hasn’t seen his parents since the beginning of January, and he hasn’t seen his sister for even longer than that, so needless to say, Derek doesn’t think the weekend can come fast enough.

His birthday has blessedly fallen on a Saturday, so Derek is free to spend the rest of the day however he pleases. He thinks for a minute about getting homework done but then decides not to kid himself, and instead grabs a book and heads down to his favorite reading spot, a nice willowy tree near the edge of the lake, where he spends the next few hours in contented silence and solitude.

On his way back up to the castle, just a little before dinner time, he hears a familiar voice shout, “Derek!”

He turns down the corridor to find Bitty, grinning and waving him over.

“Hey, Bitty,” Derek says as he approaches.

“Hey!” Bitty says, grabbing him by the arm and leading him down the corridor. “How’s your birthday been so far?”

“Pretty great, actually.”

“That’s great,” Bitty says as they turn a corner. “But you know what would make your birthday _even better?_ ”

“What?” Derek asks, though he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer.

Bitty just tugs his arm further until they finally reach the kitchens, where a giant pie is placed on top of the counter. Jack is already there, sitting in a stool next to the counter, and waves at Derek when he walks in. Derek waves back.

“Is that cherry?” Derek asks, pointing at the pie on the counter, mouth already beginning to water.

“Of course!” Bitty says. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“It looks amazing,” Derek says sincerely. “Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t mention it,” Bitty says, practically shoving him into the empty chair next to Jack. “It should be done cooling in just a few minutes, so just make yourself comfortable.”

“So,” Jack says once Derek’s sat down. “Valentine’s Day, eh?”

“Yep,” Derek replies.

“Bet that’s an annoying birthday to have.”

“Tell me about it.”

When Derek hears distant chatter and footsteps coming down the corridor, Bitty pokes his head out the kitchen door. “Hey, you two! Derek’s in here, if you wanna stop and wish him happy birthday. And also try some of his pie.”

Derek hears the footsteps grow more frantic, and then Chris and Will are scrambling in the room.

“Derek!” Chris says as soon as he spots him, an excited grin overtaking his face. “Happy birthday!”

Before he can even say thanks, Chris is enveloping Derek in a huge, bone-cracking hug.

Will snorts. “Let him breathe, C.”

“Oh, right! Sorry,” Chris says, letting go. “And I’m sorry I haven’t seen you yet today. We had practice this morning.”

“Yeah,” Will says. “Happy birthday, though.”

Derek smiles. “Thanks,” he says as Chris and Will slide into the empty stools next to him.

Sure enough, the pie is done cooling after a few minutes, and Bitty begins to divide the pie into even slices. Derek gets two, of course, because it’s his birthday. The pie is good, too — so good that no one speaks at all for a few minutes, except to let out explicit sounding hums and moans.

“Hey, you probably have plans,” Chris says, licking pie filling from his fingers. (It’s a false assumption, but Derek doesn’t correct him.) “But would you like to hang out with us for a little while? I need to give you your gift.”

Derek, of course, says sure, and the three of them head towards the Hufflepuff common room, making sure to say goodbye and thanks to Bitty before they leave.

Practically as soon as Derek enters the common room, Chris thrusts a gift bag into Derek’s hands. “Open it!” He urges.

Derek laughs at Chris’ eagerness, sitting down in front of the giant fireplace with Chris and Will and carefully opening the bag to reveal three leather-bound notebooks with his initials across the spine. “Wow, Chris.”

“Do you like them? I made sure to get blue ones.”

“I  _love_ them.” He turns and wraps Chris in a hug. “Thank you.”

The three spend the rest of the day sprawled across the armchairs and sofas in the common room, laughing and eating Derek’s leftover birthday pie. It’s nice, Derek thinks, the feeling of not having an assignment to do or anything else that needs to be immediately worried about — it’s a feeling he thinks he could get used to.

A little after dinner time — which the three of them had skipped in favor of eating more pie — Derek stands and stretches. “I should really head back,” he says. “But I need one of you to walk me back because I have no idea how to get out the door by myself.”

Will rolls his eyes. “I’ll help you,” he says, climbing out of the armchair he’d been deeply sunken into.

“This was nice,” Derek says as Will leads him down the corridor. “Thanks for inviting me over.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Will says as they reach the exit.

Derek waits for Will to let him out, but instead Will hands him a brown-papered package. Derek looks down in surprise. His name is scrawled on the top right corner in Will’s unmistakable handwriting. “When did you grab this?”

“Just open it, Derek.”

Derek does as he’s told, tearing the packaging away to reveal something soft, warm, and green.

“It’s a scarf,” he says, almost surprised.

“Yeah.” Will rubs the back of his neck, ears a little pink, and Derek feels a small curl of pleasant warmth in his stomach.

“Where did you get this from?”

“Oh,” Will says. “I, uh, knitted it?”

Derek looks up, astonished. “No way.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Will mumbles. “You’re just always complaining about how cold you are and then you end up with someone else’s scarf, so I figured you should have one of your own. And I know it’s not blue, but, you know. Your entire closet is blue. Figured you could use some diversity.

Derek can feel his smile growing wider and wider, and he knows he probably looks like an idiot, but he can’t bring himself to care. “Thanks, Will. I love it.”

Will smiles a little. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” Derek says, and drapes the scarf around his neck. Will goes pink again. “It’s like, crazy soft.”

Will coughs. “Icelandic wool yarn. For future reference.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway,” Will says. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” Derek says with as much sincerity as he can muster. “Seriously.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t make it a big deal or whatever,” Will mutters as he moves to let Derek out.

Derek just grins.

\--

At the end of February, Ravenclaw plays against Slytherin and loses.

Derek is disappointed, to say the least. He knows that he and the rest of his team played well, but Slytherin played better. He’s bitter, but he’s trying to focus on the positives — Tony Tangredi, fifth-year Chaser, had scored a perfect goal near the beginning of the game, and Lewis had been inches away from catching the snitch.

“You played well, Derek,” Chris says after the game, as he, Derek, and Will are walking back to the castle.

Derek shrugs.

“You really did,” Will adds. “Your swing in the first half of the match was killer.”

Derek smiles a little. “Thanks, I guess.”

Chris opens his mouth to say something else, but is immediately interrupted by Carl, a seventh-year and a beater for Slytherin, who bounds up to the trio, clapping Derek on the shoulder. “Pity about the loss, eh, Nurse?” He asks.

Carl is a great beater, but Derek doesn’t think he’s a very good person. He’s never been particularly nice to him (or anyone, really) but that could be because he nearly hit him with a bludger two years ago during a match.

It had been an accident, mostly.

In response to Carl’s obvious jab at Derek, Will and Chris shoot him concerned looks. But Derek merely forces a cool and calm voice and says, “Yeah, I guess.”

Carl pats Derek on the shoulder once more and drops his hand, though he doesn’t move any farther away. “Well, you win some and you lose some,” he says. “Though you’d be a little more familiar with the losing part, I’d suppose.”

Derek feels more than sees Chris and Will tense next to him, and takes a deep breath. “What exactly do you want, Carl?” He asks. “Your team won.”

“Just here for a good chat, that’s all,” Carl says. “Thought I might give you some advice for how to actually manage to hit the bludgers with your bat.”

“Funny,” Will says to Derek’s left. “I seem to recall Derek hitting more bludgers than you.”

Chris lets out a stifled snort.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter, does it?” Carl says, not batting an eye. “Slytherin won. That’s the trouble with Ravenclaws, after all — spend too much time in the books, not enough time on the pitch.”

Derek grits his teeth.

“Carl,” Will says, his voice taking on more of an edge than earlier. “Why don’t you do us all a favor and fuck off?”

“C’mon, Nurse knows I’m just playing around,” Carl says. “You’re a good student but a shitty player. Not all of us can be perfect.”

“ _Carl_ — ”

“Will, it’s fine,” Derek says. “Just drop it.”

“Yeah, _Will_ ,” Carl says. “Derek knows he's a bit of a failure. Probably doesn't need anybody to defend him from the tru— ”

And then Will punches Carl in the face.

The thirty minutes that happen after that are a bit of a blur, and Derek isn’t sure of much that happens until he ends up in the infirmary with Chris and Will, who is now sporting a bruised hand and a black eye.

Chris, who is growing more and more worried by the second, hasn’t stopped frowning since they arrived in the infirmary.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Chris says for about the seventh time, shaking his head. Will just shrugs, and Chris sighs loudly. “Will, you’ll be lucky if they don’t expel you.”

Madam Pomfrey tsks. “I’m sure they won’t expel you,” she says. “Though you’ll probably have detention for the rest of the year.”

Chris gives Will a pointed look, as if to say,  _See? I told you so._

“You’re also going to have that ugly black eye for a while,” Madam Pomfrey adds.

“At least I don’t look as bad as Carl,” Will points out.

“Fair,” Chris says begrudgingly. “But also, Carl looked uglier to begin with.”

Even Madam Pomfrey hides a grin at that one.

“Now, we’ll need to apply a lot of ice for this,” Madam Pomfrey says, leaning down to examine Will’s eye, which is beginning to look a little puffy.

“Can’t you just do a spell so he heals instantly?” Derek asks.

“I could,” Madam Pomfrey says. “But magic can be tricky when it comes to injuries, especially if you’re not careful. Sometimes it’s better to just let things heal naturally.” She turns back to Will. “Which is why you’ll be sporting that black eye for at least a week.”

Will groans, and Madam Pomfrey turns to Chris. “Mr. Chow, could you run and grab an extra bag of ice for me, please?”

Chris immediately complies, running down the corridor, and Madam Pomfrey turns back to Will.

“Now, I’m going to put this bag of ice on your eye. It’s going to sting a little, so you might want to find something to grab onto.” Madam Pomfrey looks pointedly at Derek, and Derek wordlessly extends his hand, which Will immediately grasps. “Okay, are you ready?”

Will nods, and Madam Pomfrey applies the ice to Will’s eye. Will lets out a quiet wheeze of pain, squeezing Derek’s hand. Derek winces.

“I’m going to find some bandages for your hand, alright?” Madam Pomfrey says after a few minutes, when Will’s pain has begun to fade. Will nods, and Madam Pomfrey passes the bag of ice to Derek. “Lightly apply pressure to his eye until I get back.

Before Derek can respond, Madam Pomfrey is whisking away, leaving them alone.

Derek sighs and turns to Will.

“Please don’t poke my eye out with that thing,” he says.

Derek can’t help but snort. “I’ll try not to,” he says, and gently presses the ice bag against Will’s swollen eye.

The two of them are silent for a few moments before Will says, quietly, “Hey. You okay?”

Derek leans back, looking at Will incredulously. “Your eye is literally swollen shut, and you’re asking me if _I’m_ okay?”

“It’s not swollen  _shut_ ,” Will says. “Trust me, I’ve definitely had black eyes worse than this.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Look, you’ve just been quiet,” Will says. “I was checking to see if you were alright.”

“I’m just — ” Derek stops, then sighs. “You didn’t need to punch that guy for me, alright? I can defend myself.”

“Yeah, I know, but,” Will shrugs. “He was a dick.”

Derek grits his teeth. “You can’t just punch someone because they were being a dick.”

“Oh, but _you_ can make someone’s face a plaid pattern because _they’re_ being a dick?”

Derek flounders for a moment, then stammers, “I — that’s — that was completely different.”

“How?”

“No one was actually injured, for one,” Derek says. “And for another, I wasn’t caught. You’re gonna get in big trouble for this. You know that, right? I don’t like the idea of you getting in trouble because of me.”

“I’m not getting in trouble because of _you_ ,” Will argues.

“You know what I mean.”

Will sighs. “Look, was it a kind of a stupid thing to do? Yes. Am I going to be cleaning the stalls in the bathroom for the rest of the year? Also yes. But I couldn’t just stand there and let him come up with all that utter bullshit and talk to you like that and not do something about it. So I’m not sorry I punched him, alright?” He swallows. “I’d do it again.”

Derek isn’t sure he’s ever seen Will look so passionate about something, and it suddenly occurs to him that the two of them are sitting a lot closer together than they were earlier, and also that Derek never let go of Will’s hand after Madam Pomfrey instructed him to hold it. And Will is just staring at him, probably waiting for him to respond or at least let go of his hand, but Derek can’t think of anything at all to say and finds he doesn’t really want to let go.

Instead, he squeezes Will’s hand just once.

Will gives him a small smile in return.

**march.**

The best part about being friends with Will, Derek thinks, is that his grade in Potions has greatly improved. He’s gone from barely scraping by to passing each assignment with flying colors, and he’s pretty sure Will’s grades have improved, too. Slughorn was right — they really do make a good team.

But just because he’s doing well in the class doesn’t mean he’s not already beginning to stress about year-end exams. It’s spring, which means they’re just around the corner, so in an effort to get ahead, Derek has taken to going over his notes every night and also taking extra diligent notes in class.

The problem is, Derek is finding it a little harder to concentrate lately.

Frankly, it’s because William Poindexter is very distracting.

Firstly, he bears his quill down on his parchment far harder than necessary, meaning that the scratching noises made by his quill are much louder than they’re supposed to be. Secondly, he never gets enough sleep, which means he spends half the class yawning so loudly that Derek can barely hear what Slughorn is saying. And thirdly, he can occasionally be, well. Sort of distracting to look at.

For example, on that particular Wednesday, there’s a weird glare reflecting against Will’s hair which makes it look even redder than usual. Not that Derek hates Will’s hair, or anything. In fact, he sort of likes it, and how at times it looks orange but at other times looks more red. And when the glare moves, or only partially reflects onto his hair, it makes it look like different parts of his hair are different colors, which makes him look sort of funny but mostly is just really interesting to look at.

Derek thinks a lot of Will is fascinating to look at, though, honestly. Like his eyelashes, which are like his hair in that they look blonde at first but sometimes, from a closer perspective, have tiny little specks of orange. And not to mention his freckles, which are _everywhere_ , and sort of move when parts of his face move, as if they’re another entity altogether. Especially the freckles on his nose, which, when Will’s concentrating, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, scrunch up adorably with the rest of his nose, and —

_Oh._

At that moment, Will chooses to look up, and Derek’s realization must be written all over his face, because he narrows his eyebrows and mouths, “ _What?_ ”

 _Oh, nothing,_ Derek thinks. _Only I’ve just realized I’m stupidly into you._

Instead, Derek says, dumbly, “You have ink on your nose.”

Will rubs at his nose for an ink spot that isn’t there, until he stops and looks back at Derek. “Is it gone?”

“Yep,” Derek says, smiling weakly. Will smiles back, and then turns to his notes again.

Derek is utterly fucked.

\--

Having a gigantic embarrassing crush on William Poindexter is extremely inconvenient, Derek decides. Or at least, it is now that Derek has actually discovered that he is, in fact, in possession of a gigantic embarrassing crush on William Poindexter.

It’s not that Derek didn’t know he was attracted to Will. He’s known it for a while, actually — long before they even became friends. For whatever reason, he’s always found something appealing about the freckles and the hair and the remarkable ability to turn beet red in five seconds. But it was never a big deal. Derek had accepted the fact that William Poindexter was, objectively, attractive, and had moved on.

Only now it _is_ a big deal, because at some point, after becoming actual friends with Will, he inconveniently developed feelings and now can’t write a single poem without somehow incorporating metaphors about autumn.

The poems aren’t even _good._

It wouldn’t be so hard to deal with if it weren’t for the fact that they spend so much time together, despite not even living in the same house. When they’re not in class together, Derek is spending his free time studying with Will, eating meals with Will, or just generally existing in Will’s presence. Chris is usually also there, of course, but that doesn’t make him any less distracting. Will merely blushes and smiles at Derek and all of the sudden he’s stammering out nonsensical noises while tripping over thin air.

And sure, Derek trips over midair hourly; embarrassing is practically his middle name. But he’s worried Will could begin to connect the dots. It’s only a matter of time before he picks up on Derek’s strange behavior, and it won’t be long after that when Will discovers the truth, and then things would be so unbearably awkward between the two of them.

And Derek doesn’t want that to happen, which is why he has now resorted to avoiding him.

“Have you seen Will today?” Chris asks Derek in a low voice as he sits across from him at their table in the library, a place Derek has often found himself retreating to when he doesn’t want Will to find him.

“Nope, sorry,” Derek responds, not looking up from his book.

“Oh, okay,” Chris says. “I just figured you’d know where he is, seeing as you two are practically attached at the hip.”

Derek feels the back of his neck heat up. “We are not.”

“Well, not _lately_ , I suppose,” Chris concedes. “He was actually asking about you the other day, wondering where you’d been lately.”

Derek tries not to cringe. “I’ve just been busy,” he mutters.

“Oh, okay,” Chris says. The two of them are silent for a moment, the only sound between the two of them Chris’ quill against the parchment, until he sets his quill down and says, “You do realize that by avoiding him you’re making your huge crush even _more_ obvious, right?”

Derek freezes, then looks up for the first time. Chris regards him with a careful expression. “I don’t have a crush on him,” Derek says, but it sounds unconvincing even to him.

“I’m not going to tell him, you know,” Chris says in a gentler tone.

Derek hesitates, then sighs. “How did you figure it out, anyway?”

“Derek, come on,” Chris says. “You’ve been giving him heart eyes for, what, the past two months?”

“Two months?” Derek repeats. He hasn’t liked Will for _that long_ , has he? Surely he would’ve figured it out beforehand if he had. “Do you think Will knows?”

“No way," Chris assures him. Then he adds, "But he might begin to figure it out if you keep avoiding him.”

Derek sighs and slumps across the table, putting his chin on his arms. “I just don’t know what else to do. I can’t even spend five seconds with him without forgetting how to act like a normal person.”

“You could try talking to him about it?” Chris suggests.

“ _No_ ,” Derek says, so vehemently that a couple of heads turn to stare at him. He quickly lowers his voice. “Look, it’s taken us so long to get to the point where we’re actually friends. I don’t want my stupid feelings to screw it up.”

“Your feelings aren’t _stupid,_ ” Chris says. “But I see what you mean. I don’t know what to tell you, Derek. I just know that I don’t think avoiding him is the answer. I think you’re starting to hurt his feelings.”

Derek does wince this time. “I don’t _want_ to hurt his feelings,” he mumbles.

“I know,” Chris says in a sympathetic voice, and pats Derek on the shoulder. “Just, figure it out, okay? Sooner rather than later. I don’t want to have to be stuck in the middle of your fights again every week.”

Derek cracks a small grin. “Yeah, okay.”

And the two of the resume their work in silence.

\--

After Derek realizes his plan to ignore Will isn’t really working out, he adopts a new plan, which is to just ignore his feelings for Will.

It’s not terrible, as far as plans go. And Derek has gotten pretty good at pretending. He already pretends to be "chill" half the time around the majority of people he knows, so it’s not like pretending like he doesn’t have any feelings for William Poindexter is any extra work.

In any case, the plan _seems_ to be working. Will had seemed a little suspicious when Derek started talking to him again after nearly a week of avoidance, but relaxed easily enough after a little while, and soon the two of them were complaining about classes and cracking up at each other’s terrible jokes like normal. And things do _feel_ normal, for the most part, except for now Derek has to ignore how sometimes when Will looks at him and smiles he stops breathing.

But it’s fine. Most of the time, the problems Derek ignores just go away.

And if all of his poems are still about Will, nobody else has to know.

It’s a Saturday night, and Will and Derek are in the Ravenclaw common room, Derek reading a book and Will working on an assignment. On any other night, Chris would be with them, but his parents had visited and had taken him out to dinner, leaving the two of them alone, something Derek was only _mildly_ anxious about.

From his corner of the common room, Will lets out a frustrated sigh, probably the fourth one in the past hour. Derek sets down his book and looks over at him. He’s scowling down at his paper, his forehead is wrinkled, and his grip on his quill is probably a little stronger than necessary.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Derek asks him.

Will looks up. He looks almost startled, as if he’d been so focused on his assignment that he’d forgotten Derek was there. He shakes his head, looking back down. “Nothing.”

This is an obvious lie, and Derek gives Will a look, even though he knows he can’t see him. But evidently the strength of his look is so strong that Will must _feel_ it, because he sighs and amends, “This assignment is really stressing me out.”

“Maybe you should take a break,” Derek suggests.

Will looks at Derek as if the suggestion is insane. “It’s due Monday morning and I’ve barely started it.”

“Will, you’ve written an _entire_ page.”

“Yeah, and this entire page is  _shit_.”

“Oh, come on, I’m sure that’s not true.” But Will looks doubtful. “What’s the assignment, anyway?”

“It’s just a paper for Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Will mutters, and Derek knows that’s Will’s hardest class. Coincidentally, it’s Derek’s hardest class, too. Or at least, it is now that he’s got a good grade in Potions. “Which I know I _should_ be able to do because it’s just a stupid paper and it’s not that hard but I can’t _focus_ and the words won’t come out right and — ”

“Will, hey,” Derek says gently, and almost adds ‘chill,’ but then thinks better of it. “Calm down,” he says instead, and Will still looks frustrated, but not angry at Derek, which he considers a success. “Look, there’s no way you’re going to be able to make any progress if you’re in this stressed mindset.”

“Yeah, well, I work better under pressure, so.”

“This isn’t pressure,” Derek insists. “This is just you making yourself more and more frustrated. You’re not going to be able to write _anything_ good if you’re just stressing yourself out.”

Will looks at Derek dubiously. “That sounds like something you just made up to try to get me to take a break.”

“Not true,” Derek says. “Will, come on, trust me. I’m a Ravenclaw, remember? That means I’m smarter than you.”

“Ha ha,” Will says dryly.

“Look, just put it aside for the night and take a break, and you can work on it all day tomorrow,” Derek reasons. “I’ll even help you. I’m great at papers.”

Will looks hesitant, but finally sighs. “Okay, fine. I’ll take a break.”

Derek turns back to his book, satisfied, only five minutes later he still hasn’t been able to move on from his current page, unable to concentrate because he can practically _feel_ the stress radiating off of Will.

Suddenly, Derek is struck with an idea. He almost opens his mouth to announce it, but then hesitates, worried about making himself too transparent. He’s done a pretty good job hiding his feelings for Will so far, and he doesn’t want to make the wrong move and reveal himself.

But then Derek glances up at Will again, and sees that same, brow-wrinkled look of frustration on his face, and decides, _Fuck it._

“Alright, get up,” Derek tells Will, standing up. Will just looks up at him, puzzled. “C’mon, we’re leaving.”

“Where are we going?” Will asks, but he’s already standing up.

“You’ll see.”

About five minutes later, Derek and Will are sitting near the edge of the Black Lake, not too far away from the willowy tree, Derek’s favorite reading spot.

“Why are we here?” Will asks after he and Derek have settled down in the grass and are staring up at the stars.

“Because you needed a change of scenery,” Derek says. “I come here sometimes when I’m trying to procrastinate.”

“Oh, so every day, then?”

“Shut up,” Derek says, and shoves Will’s shoulder. Will laughs.

“Thanks,” Will says softly after a few minutes of silence. “This is nice.” Derek hums in agreement, then Will continues, “I really like looking at the stars, you know?”

Derek turns to look at him. It’s so dark outside that he can barely make out the features of his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Will says. “My family lives pretty much in the middle of nowhere, so I’ve spent a lot of nights outside trying to find constellations. I dunno, I guess it just reminds me of home.”

Derek hums. “Well, I live in London, and with all the light pollution from the city, you can barely see the stars, let alone constellations.”

Derek half-expects Will to scoff, or say something like, “Of course you’re from _London_.” And maybe he would have, a few months ago. Instead, Will declares, “Well, I’ll show you some,” and shifts closer to Derek so that their shoulders are touching.

Derek swallows.

“Don’t worry, I’m not Trelawney. I’m not going to try to tell you you’re going to die in three days,” Will tells him, which isn’t what Derek was thinking about, exactly, but he laughs anyway. “So, do you see those three stars in a line?”

Derek follows where Will’s pointing. “Yeah.”

“That’s Orion’s belt. And then the stars that surround it make up the rest of Orion. Like, see that really bright star right near the belt? That’s his armpit. It’s called Betelgeuse.”

“ _Gazuntite_.”

Will laughs, a bright sound, right near Derek’s ear, and Derek finds himself wanting to do whatever he can to hear it again. It suddenly strikes him as ironic that Will likes constellations so much, because with all his freckles, Will is practically a constellation himself.

 _Huh. That’s good,_ Derek thinks to himself, and makes a mental note to use it in a poem later.

Will points out a few more constellations for Derek, like the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper, and then they fall into comfortable silence again.

“I’m glad we’re friends,” Will says softly a few minutes later, breaking the silence.

Derek glances over at Will to find he’s already looking at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I — ” Will pauses, and though it’s dark, Derek can just barely make out his blush. Will turns away and faces the sky, and then admits, his voice barely above a whisper, “I like spending time with you.”

Derek feels his heart beat a little faster. It occurs to him, suddenly, how easy it would be to lean over and lie his head on Will’s shoulder, or to reach out and grab Will’s hand — how easy it would be to turn this night from two friends taking a study break to two people on a date.

But Derek is a coward, so instead he says, “Yeah. Me too.”

About fifteen minutes later, they both agree that it’s getting late, meaning they should probably call it a night and head inside, so they do, even if Derek feels a little reluctant to do so.

They part ways to go to back to their respective houses once they reach the castle. Will smiles and says goodnight, and Derek smiles and says goodnight back.

It was a nice night, Derek thinks to himself after he’s back in his dormitory, getting ready for bed. A _really_ nice night, actually. But it didn’t help at all with Derek’s seemingly fool-proof plan of ignoring his feelings for Will until they go away. In fact, if Derek’s being honest with himself — which he usually isn’t — he thinks he might be a little in love with him.

**april.**

Despite his high grade in Potions, Derek is still surprised when he receives a Slug Club invitation from Slughorn. He gives Derek and Will their invitations at the same time, and must see the surprise in their expressions, because he chuckles.

“You two have shown amazing improvement this year, and you have the top two grades in the class,” Slughorn says. “Of course I invited you.”

The invitation specifically details a dinner to be held at Slughorn’s house, a little celebration for surviving the year. Derek has to read through the invitation twice just to make sure he hadn’t received it by mistake. He knows he’s a good student, but Slughorn only chooses the most promising and talented students to be part of the Slug Club. Derek isn’t quite sure he fits the bill.

Though he finds the invitation absent of any mistakes, he does notice one alarming detail written at the bottom of the invitation: _Please bring a date._

Which is how he spends the two weeks leading up to the dinner trying to gather the courage to ask Will to be his date.

Sure, he and Will are great friends, and introducing romance into that aspect might make things awkward. Will might not feel the same way — probably doesn’t, in fact. He might say no to Derek’s invitation. But he’s had feelings for Will for a while now, and ignoring them doesn’t seem to make them go away, so Derek figures it can’t hurt to try.

That’s what he’s been telling himself, anyway. So far, he hasn’t actually managed to get the courage to ask. He considers popping the question countless times, but the timing never feels right. It’s always right before an exam, or when Will looks more stressed than usual, or some other reason Derek conveniently comes up with before he gathers enough courage.

Five days away from the dinner, Derek and Will are playing Wizard’s Chess in the dining hall. It’s the middle of the afternoon, so the hall is empty except for the two of them.

He honestly can’t think of a better time to ask.

“Hey, Will,” Derek says, clearing his throat.

“Yeah?” Will asks, looking up.

Derek swallows, suddenly horribly nervous. “I was wondering…”

Will waits patiently, only Derek has been silent for so long now that it’s becoming painfully awkward.

“I was wondering how you were going to feel after I win this game,” he finally says.

Will laughs and shakes his head. “There’s no way in hell you’re beating me, Derek.”

And that’s how Will ends up winning their match of Wizard’s Chess, and Derek ends up asking Chris to be his date to Slughorn’s dinner.

In the end, it turns out that Derek needn’t have bothered asking Will to be his date at all, because Will arrives at the dinner with his own date.

Derek valiantly pretends this does not bother him.

“Oh my God,” Chris hisses as soon as Will walks in the door. “His date is _Caitlin Farmer_.”

Derek, mainly paying attention to how attractive Will looks in a suit, takes a little while to answer. “Who?”

“She’s a Hufflepuff in our year,” Chris whispers. “She’s incredible and I would die for her.”

Derek snorts.

Will sees Derek and smiles. Derek’s stomach flips just a little bit.

“Hey,” Will says as he slides into the empty seat on Derek’s left. “You look really nice.”

Derek, not for the first time, feels incredibly grateful that his complexion doesn’t easily reveal his blushes. “Thanks. You too.”

Will goes a little pink but turns to Chris. “You too, Chris,” Will says. “I didn’t know you were Derek’s date.”

“He asked me sort of spur of the moment,” Chris says. “Since he couldn’t find the courage to ask — ”

Derek kicks him under the table, effectively rendering Chris mute.

Will looks a little puzzled, but continues, “Anyway, this is Caitlin Farmer.” He nods to the girl who is seated at his left. She’s tall, and very pretty, wearing a teal dress with her brown hair done up into a complicated braid.

“I know,” Chris says. Derek shoots Chris a look. “Uh, I mean, nice to meet you. I’m Chris Chow.”

“I know,” Caitlin says, giving him a teasing smile, and Chris flushes and smiles back.

\--

Derek actually has a good time at Slughorn’s dinner. Sure, the small talk over the table is a bit awkward — a third-year Slytherin has to explain the concept of “marketing” when asked what her muggle parents do for a living — but other than that, the evening goes nicely.

After the dinner, though, comes the really awkward part, when Derek stands around, watching others mingle and praying that someone will have mercy on him and strike up a conversation so he doesn’t look like such a loser.

He’s just beginning to meander towards the snack table when someone grabs him by the wrist and drags him behind a velvet curtain. He lets out a yelp of surprise, but relaxes immediately when he sees it’s only Will.

“What the hell was that for?” Derek demands.

“Sorry,” Will says breathlessly. Due to the small space behind the curtain, he’s pressed right against Derek, who hopes he can’t hear how loudly his heart is beating. “I’m hiding from Gertrude Botts.”

“Gryffindor fourth-year?”

“That’s the one.”

“Why?”

“She keeps trying to kiss me.”

Derek can’t help it — he snorts. “What?”

Will swats Derek on the arm. “It’s not funny!”

But Derek is full-on giggling now. “Why is she trying to _kiss_ you? Do you even know her?”

“No!” Will hisses. “I complimented her sweater earlier and ever since she’s been following me around. I tried to use Caitlin as an excuse but she’s been glued to Chris all night. The traitor.”

“Oh.” Derek clears his throat. “So, uh, I guess that means you and Caitlin aren’t dating?”

“What? No.”

“Oh,” Derek says.

“We’re just friends,” Will adds. He hesitates, then says, “Uh, why do you ask?”

“Oh, I was just — ” Derek stammers. “You know. Curious.”

“Oh,” Will says.

Derek clears his throat again. “Why did you drag me into this, anyway?”

Will winces. “Uh, well, actually — ”

Before Will can finish his sentence, though, the curtain is being drawn back by none other than Gertrude Botts, who is loudly chewing on quiche from the snack table. “Will, what are you doing back there?”

“Actually, Gertrude,” Will says. “I wanted to introduce you to my boyfriend, Derek Nurse.”

Derek freezes.

“Boyfriend?” Gertrude asks. She sounds just as confused as Derek feels.

“Yep,” Will says, bringing his arm around Derek’s waist and pulling him closer. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

“Yes,” Derek manages. “We are very much in love.”

Will flushes brilliantly red, but stammers out, “Yep, we are,” and, stunningly, gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

Derek thinks he might have accidentally stumbled into an alternate universe, because this is his nightmare in the way that it’s actually sort of a dream that’s become reality.

“Oh,” Gertrude says, disappointed. “Well. I guess I’ll just see you around.”

“Sure,” Will says in a voice that clearly expresses a desire to never see Gertrude ever again in his life.

Once he’s sure Gertrude is gone, Derek turns to Will and hisses, “What the hell was that?”

Will’s face is still red. “Sorry. I was just trying to get her off my back.”

Will refuses to meet his eyes, looking somewhat guilty. Derek lets out a deep breath. “It’s fine. Just give me a warning next time or something.”

“If I ever get stalked by a random girl I’ve never met and have to enlist you as my fake boyfriend, again, I promise you’ll get a heads up,” Will says, deadpan.

Derek rolls his eyes. “Your breath smells terrible, by the way.”

Will grimaces. “Yeah, that’s probably because I ate a lot of onion in hopes that it would chase Gertrude off.”

Derek wrinkles his nose. “That’s disgusting.”

Will laughs and makes a kissy face at Derek.

Derek flushes and shoves Will away.

\--

“Okay, so,” Chris says through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “Would you rather spend the night in the Forbidden Forest, or spend the night in the Room of Requirement, not knowing if anyone was ever going to find you?”

Derek blinks. “Well, _does_ somebody ever find me?”

Chris shrugs.

Derek frowns. “You’re not very good at this.”

“Okay, come on,” Will says. “The answer is obviously the Room of Requirement. The Room could end up being really cool. The Forbidden Forest is always gonna be scary.”

“But you don’t _know_ what the Room of Requirement is going to end up being,” Derek points out. “At least the Forbidden Forest is consistent.”

“Uh, yeah, consistently _terrifying_.”

“I still don’t understand how you two manage to argue about _everything_ ,” Chris says, shaking his head.

Derek shrugs and smirks. “It’s a gift.”

Will shoves him, and Chris laughs.

The three of them are seated at the Hufflepuff table in the dining hall, Chris on one side and Derek and Will squeezed together on the other. The girl to Derek’s left keeps elbowing him every time she cuts her chicken, which is why Derek prefers sitting at the Ravenclaw table — it’s usually less crowded, and Ravenclaws are far less messy eaters.

Still, he never turns Will and Chris down when they invite him to sit with them.

“Anyway,” Chris says, beginning to stand. “I’ve got to go.”

Will looks up at him, puzzled. “Where are you going?”

“I have plans,” Chris says, but he’s flushing just a little bit.

Will and Derek glance at one another with knowing looks. “So, essentially, he’s ditching us to hang out with Caitlin Farmer,” Will clarifies, and Derek snorts.

Chris colors further, and Derek adds, “Yeah, what’s your plan for wooing her this time? Shakespeare’s Sonnet #138?”

“Shut up,” Chris hisses as Derek and Will snicker. Chris just groans and declares, “You know, sometimes I wish you two had never become friends.”

Derek glances over at Will, who is grinning at him, eyes bright and crinkled the way they always are when he’s happy. It strikes Derek then, not for the first time, how much he loves him.

He’s never said anything to Will about it — hasn’t even hinted at it — and at this point, he doesn’t think he’s going to. Of course there’s always a chance that Will might feel the same way, but if he doesn’t? That would ruin the friendship they’ve fought so hard to create. Derek doesn’t want to risk that.

The thing is, though, he doesn’t think his feelings are going away. Derek’s a hopeless romantic, so it’s not like he’s never had feelings for anyone before, but typically, the feelings seem to pass pretty quickly. After a month or so of pining, Derek moves on.

But he hasn’t moved on from Will yet, which means he’s probably not going to anytime soon, and that’s...kind of scary, actually. He loves Will in a way that feels comfortable — it lingers in the background, and he’s not always entirely aware of it, but it’s still always there.

 _Friends,_ Chris had called them, and sure, Derek wants more than that, but he thinks being friends with Will is still sort of special. Having Will in his life _at all_ is special, if he’s being honest, and he doesn’t want anything to change that.

 _It’ll be fine,_ Derek thinks to himself as he watches Will turn away, still wearing that unreserved smile that only the people he really cares about ever get to see, the same smile that always makes Derek sort of forget to breathe. _I can handle a few pesky feelings._

“The real question,” Will says now, interrupting Derek from his reverie, “Is would you rather have a man living in your attic, or a thousand roaches?”

“Hmm…” Derek leans back, contemplating. “Honestly? I think I’m gonna have to pick the man.”

“Are you _kidding?_ ” Will demands. “Roaches won’t _smother_ you. _In your sleep_.”

Derek considers this, then says, “...Technically, a thousand could.”

“Shut up, Derek.”

**may.**

“Exams are coming up soon, as I’m sure you’re all aware,” Slughorn tells the class on Monday morning, a little over a month before the end of term. “And I’m sure you’ve all begun studying.” There are quiet murmurs of disagreement from around the room. “But before your exam, you all have one final assignment to complete. I want you to create a potion — one we haven’t already made in class — and test its effects. Needless to say, this potion needs to be safe: it can’t cause any harm. I’d like for you to be original, as well. Make this potion your own — don’t just follow an ingredients list word-for-word.”

They have a week to complete the assignment, so Derek and Will immediately begin brainstorming. After bouncing ideas back and forth, they decide upon making a love potion. It’s not the greatest idea, nor is it the most original, but it ends up only taking them two hours to make.

They haven’t tested it yet, but they’re pretty confident in their choice — that is, until Will overhears Slughorn chewing out a few students in their class for deciding to make a love potion, claiming it “muddled with the line of consent” and “produced extremely negative results.”

“ _Now_ what are we going to do?” Derek asks after Will breaks the news, staring forlornly at their now useless potion.

Will sighs and scrubs his hands through his hair. “I don’t know,” he admits. “Come up with a new idea, I guess. Although I can’t think of anything good.”

“Me neither,” Derek says, but then he pauses. “Wait a minute. What about an honesty potion?”

Will looks doubtful. “That doesn’t sound very original.”

“Maybe not,” Derek says. “But we can _make_ it more original. What if instead of a potion that makes you _tell_ the truth, we created one that just made you act more truthful in general? Like, a potion that doesn’t let you worry about other people’s opinions and reveals who you really are.”

Will frowns, looking thoughtful. “That’s...actually a really good idea.”

Derek grins. “I have them from time to time.”

“What are we gonna do with this, though?” Will asks, gesturing to the love potion.

Derek shrugs and picks it up, slipping into his bag. “What?” Derek says at Will’s perplexed expression. “Never know when it’s gonna come in handy.”

Will rolls his eyes.

\--

It takes a little longer to make the honesty potion than Derek had thought it would, but that’s only because they want to ensure that the potion has its intended effects. After they’re confident in their work, they enlist in subjects for their test.

Derek asks Shitty and Lardo to participate, while Will recruits three fifth-years: Tony, Connor, and Ford. Derek obviously knows Tony, as the two of them are in the same house and on the same team, and he's had a few classes with Ford before, but Connor is in Slytherin, and Derek only knows him through listening to Ford and Tony talk about him. But all three of them are friends, and Shitty and Lardo are dating, so he and Will decide to split them into two groups, just so no one feels uncomfortable sharing personal information about themselves with total strangers.

Not that any of the questions they came up with together are particularly invading or embarrassing. After all, they aren’t assholes.

Derek and Will ask their participants the questions they’ve selected before and after the participants are given the potion. “That way we can measure just _how_ truthful they’re being,” Will had said when explaining it to Derek.

The experiment doesn’t take too long to administer, and the results are a lot more revealing than Derek expected them to be.

Shitty, Tony, and Ford, who are naturally more open people, don’t exhibit any drastic changes in behavior before taking the potion versus after taking the potion. The only main difference Derek notes in Shitty is that he freely admits to being slightly tipsy, without Will or Derek asking.

“Uh,” Will says after Shitty confesses this to them. “Did you really think it would be a good idea to drink before participating in a project? For school? Where you’re required to take a substance that could potentially create a harmful mix with alcohol?”

“Huh,” Shitty says. “I didn’t really think about that.”

Lardo just snorts.

“We’ll just conveniently leave that bit of information out of our report,” Derek hisses to Will.

Will rolls his eyes.

Similarly, Ford acts pretty much the same as she normally does, though Derek thinks she’s a little more chatty than usual. And Tony also exhibits no real differences in behavior other than the fact that he asks even _more_ questions while on the honesty potion. He doesn’t bother stopping to apologize for asking so many questions, something he does ordinarily. This seems to grate Will’s nerves to no end, and Derek has to send him a warning look when he begins to raise his voice after Tony’s thirtieth question.

The more notable differences are in Lardo and Connor, who are naturally more closed off. Despite the fact that Shitty and Lardo have been dating for about three years, Derek has never seen them do anything remotely couple-y besides hold hands on a couple of occasions. But while under the effects of the honesty potion, Lardo practically sits in Shitty’s lap. She even stops to smack a kiss on his cheek once during the middle of Derek’s question, which of course makes Shitty blush and grin like an idiot.

The real remarkable difference, though, is Connor, who almost immediately loses his cool and uncaring facade after taking the potion. When Derek asks Connor what his biggest fear is, he responds “Spiders,” and then goes into lengthy detail about _why_ he’s afraid of spiders (he found one crawling on his arm in the middle of the night when he was nine), completely unprompted.

What’s most interesting, though, is not Connor’s words, but his actions. He spends the entire time under the effects of the honesty potion flirting with not just Ford, but Tony as well — he sits close to them, compliments them, and puts his arms around their shoulders. What’s even crazier is that it _works_ — Tony blushes and giggles, and Ford actually flirts _back_.

Will looks over at Derek, incredulous. Derek just shrugs.

The effects of the potion only last about half an hour. After the effects have completely worn off, Derek and Will note that the participant experiences brief confusion, but no memory loss. After adjusting, the participant then reverts back to normal behavior. For example, Connor had immediately turned bright red and shifted away from both Tony and Ford.

After Derek and Will have finished taking their notes on the effects of the potion, they dismiss their participants, thanking them for their time. Derek glances suggestively between Connor, Ford, and Tony as they leave, shooting Connor a thumbs up. Connor just scowls back at him.

All by themselves, Derek and Will make themselves comfortable and settle down. It’s a Saturday night, and the Hufflepuff common room is blessedly empty — everyone is either in their rooms or out and about.

Derek is putting the last few finishing touches on the paper when Will says, “This project was kinda interesting.”

“Hmm?” He looks over, tapping the feather of his quill against his chin.

Will, who lies next to Derek on the rug of the common room, lifts himself up onto his elbows. “I dunno. I mean, it really examines humanity, you know? And how everybody is just naturally more closed off not only when it comes to what they say but also what they do.”

Derek playfully kicks Will’s ankle. “Look at you! And I thought _I_ was the smart, introspective one in this relationship.”

Will ignores him and continues, “I mean, you get it. Neither of us are very open and honest about our emotions. I’m super reserved and you’ve got that whole ‘chill’ facade going on.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but doesn’t disagree. He knows it’s true.

Will shrugs. “I dunno. It just makes me think…”

“About what it would be like to take the potion?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“I mean, we could always just take it and find out,” Derek suggests.

“What?”

“Why not? It’s not against the rules or anything, just as long as we don’t document our results and write about them in the report.”

Will rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, I’d take it too. And we can both agree not to ask each other any invading or embarrassing questions.”

Sure, Derek thinks it’d be interesting to see how the both of them react to the effects of the potion, but if he’s being totally honest with himself, that’s not the primary reason why he’s so intent on persuading Will.

The primary reason is that Derek wants to see a Will who’s open and honest and doesn’t build up walls because he cares too much about what other people think. He knows he’s seen glimpses of that Will before — he saw it when they were in the infirmary together, and he sees it sometimes in Will’s unreserved smiles. But, selfishly, Derek wants more.

Will sighs. “Okay, fine,” he says, relenting. “But I’m going first so I can get it out of the way.”

Derek cheers.

\--

The two of them sit across from each other on the couch, still in the common room. It’s about 9:00, so Derek is sure they won’t be disturbed — most of the students are probably getting into bed and settling down for the night.

Derek holds the potion out to Will. Will raises his eyebrow. “Not going to bother asking me the test questions first?”

“Nah,” Derek says. “I think we probably know each other well enough to decide how truthful we’re being.”

“Fair,” says Will, though he still doesn’t take the potion from Derek. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Will was nervous.

“Dude, come on. It’s not gonna bite.” Derek shakes the bottle a little.

Will rolls his eyes, snatching the potion away and taking a swig. Once he’s done, he sets the potion down on the table in front of them, wiping the back of his mouth. “Huh,” he says. “That actually tastes pretty good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like berries.”

“So,” Derek says. “Do you feel any more...truthful?”

Will hesitates. “Maybe? I don’t even know what that would feel like, though, so. Just hit me with the questions.”

“Fair enough,” Derek says, and pulls out the sheet of parchment he’d written the questions onto earlier. “Biggest fear?”

“Existentially? Never proving that I’m good enough,” Will says. “Irrationally? Mandrakes.”

“Dude, those are mad creepy,” Derek agrees. “Last time you cried?”

“Two weeks ago,” Will says. “It was really late and I was really tired only I had to finish a paper for Transfiguration and I was having a lot of trouble with it. You didn’t ask why, did you?” Derek shakes his head. “Huh. I think it’s working.”

Derek laughs. “You know, if you were having a lot of trouble with it you could’ve asked me to help.”

“Yeah, I know, but it was late. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You asking for help isn’t _bothering_ me,” Derek says, shaking his head. “I would’ve helped if you asked.”

Will smiles at him softly. “Okay. I’ll ask you next time.”

Derek’s stomach flips, but he plows forward. “Scariest Hogwarts professor?”

“Trelawney,” Will says without hesitation. “Her glasses freak me out. Also, that wasn’t one of the questions.”

“Yeah, well, the rest of the questions are boring,” Derek announces, slumping further into the couch and flinging his legs up into Will’s lap, making himself comfortable. “I decided to improvise.”

Will shakes his head, smiling fondly. “Whatever. Next question.” His hands have settled almost absently on top of Derek’s legs, and he’s brushing his thumb over Derek’s ankle. The gesture is almost intimate, or at least far more intimate than what he’s used to from Will.

Derek clears his throat. “Most embarrassing memory?”

Will makes a face. “What happened to no embarrassing questions?” Derek blinks innocently and Will groans, though he’s still smiling. “When I was like ten I went to the beach with my family. My little sister was like, eight. She was really into gymnastics at the time, happened to do a cartwheel right in front of me, and kicked my swim trunks all the way down. The entire beach saw my penis.”

Derek laughs.

“I was so _mad_ ,” Will continues. “I wouldn’t speak to her for like, a week. And she cried of course because she was eight and she didn’t mean to do it so she felt bad but I was still _so mad_.”

“That’s rough,” Derek says, shaking his head. “Your sister is brutal.”

“Yeah, she is,” Will agrees. “Now she teases me about it all the time. You and her would get along.”

“We probably would.”

“My, uh…” Will blushes a little, a quiet smile on his face. “My whole family would really like you, honestly.”

“They would?” Derek asks, finding himself oddly touched.

“Yeah. I talk about you all the time. When I’m home, that is.”

“Really?” Derek feels the the back of his neck get kind of hot, and it suddenly occurs to him that he and Will are sitting a lot closer together than they were before.

In fact, they’re sitting so close together that Will is close enough to reach out and tuck one of Derek’s curls behind his ear, which he does, suddenly spur of the moment. “It was sticking out,” he says to Derek, who is probably staring at Will like he’s grown a second head. “Has anyone ever told you that your hair is like. Sort of beautiful?”

The back of Derek’s neck grows even hotter. “Why do you talk about me with your family?” He asks, because for some inexplicable reason it is absolutely necessary that he knows the answer to this question.

Will looks a little sheepish. “Uh, probably because I’m super in love with you?”

Derek swears the world stops spinning.

“You...what?” He stammers.

Will shoots Derek a look. “Don’t act so surprised. As if half of the students at Hogwarts aren’t in love with you, as well.”

“They are _not —_ ”

“They absolutely are,” Will says. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s not as if I could _blame_ them.” Will gestures to Derek as if to say ‘duh.’

Derek gapes at Will like a fish. “What are you — where is this coming from?”

Will shrugs. “I dunno. I mean, I’ve always been attracted to you,” he says as if he’s stating something objective like the weather, and not completely blowing Derek’s mind. “Not during first year, of course. But everyone was ugly that year, so that doesn’t count.

Derek blinks.

“I think part of the reason I was always so grumpy and hostile towards you was, like I said...everything seemed to come so easy for you and I was jealous,” Will says. “But I think another, smaller reason was that I sort of liked you but knew you were so out of my league that you’d never notice me.”

Derek’s throat is dry. “You….what?”

Will flushes and picks at a loose thread hanging off his flannel. “If I was antagonizing you, then I knew you’d pay attention to me.” Will looks back at Derek. “That was partly it, at least. I was also antagonizing you because you really and genuinely just made me angry.”

Derek opens his mouth to say something, but no sound comes out.

“But, whatever. It was a tiny crush, and anyway, it was mostly blocked out by how much you got on my nerves. But then we became friends, and….” Will hesitates. “God, you’re just...you’re so much, you know? You’re smart, and clever, and _kind_ , and you gave me a second chance, even when I didn’t deserve it…” He rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I love your stupid hair and the way you laugh at my stupid jokes. And you actually listen to what I have to say, and challenge me, and make me _better._  I mean, I’ve never said anything — obviously — because I was worried it would make everything awkward. But I’ve always sort of thought you deserved to know, so. There it is, I guess.”

Derek opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it back up again. “You’re only saying all of this because of the potion.”

Will shrugs. “I know. But that’s the point of the potion, right? It makes you tell the truth.”

“Right. The honesty potion.” Derek repeats, sounding like a loser, but Will just smiles at him.

 _He’s in love with me,_ Derek thinks to himself, breathless and exhilarated and a little nauseous all at once. _He’s in love with me and he’s only telling me because he’s taking a potion that forces him to admit it but he’s still —_

“Shit,” Derek says suddenly.

“What?” Will asks, but Derek has already gotten up.

On the other side of the room is his bag, right where he left it. He drops to his knees and begins to rummage through it.

Sure enough, the love potion rests at the top, looking significantly emptier than it had earlier.

“God _damn_ it,” Derek says. “I accidentally gave you a fucking love potion.”

“ _What?_ ”

It’s a simple mistake, really, and by simple, Derek means it’s a careless mistake that only he could have made. He’d grabbed the love potion instead of the honesty potion from his bag, and had given Will the wrong potion without realizing it.

But Derek’s pretty sure that if he takes the time to explain all of this to Will, he’ll start to panic, so instead he says, “Come on,” grabs his bag with one hand and Will’s hand with the other, and drags him down the hall until he finally reaches the boys’ dormitory.

“CHRIS!” Derek shouts once he’s outside, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as panicked as he feels. He bangs on the door with his foot once for good measure. “CHRIS! I NEED YOU! IT’S AN EMERGENCY!”

Chris opens the door, already in his pajamas, and the curious faces of several other Hufflepuffs peer out from behind him. “What’s going on?”

“Shut the door,” Derek hisses, and Chris obediently steps out into the hall, closing the door behind him, and raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“I accidentally gave Will a love potion,” Derek blurts out.

“What?” Chris’ eyes widen. “Why?”

“I said it was an _accident_ , didn’t I?”

“Fair point,” Chris concedes, still looking alarmed.

“This is ridiculous,” Will says, scoffing. “He didn’t give me a love potion. I’d know if he had.”

“That sounds exactly like something someone who’s recently taken a love potion would say.”

Chris takes a deep breath. “Oh boy. Okay, what do you need me to do, Derek? Why are you telling me this? I don’t know anything about love potions.”

At that moment, Derek notices that he and Will are still holding hands, and that Will’s thumb is brushing gently against Derek’s knuckles. When Derek looks up at Will, he’s blushing but smiling at Derek like there’s no one else he’d rather be looking at.

Derek turns back to Chris. “Because I am not emotionally stable enough to deal with this by myself.”

Chris takes in another deep breath. “Okay. We can figure this out. Don’t panic, okay? It’s gonna be fine.”

“Okay,” Derek says, but he doesn’t think he sounds very convincing.

“Okay, so, how much did he take? How long is this supposed to last?”

“I don’t know,” Derek admits. “It was a prototype, we never tested it. But Slughorn said love potions can have really bad results and uhhh okay I’m starting to panic now.”

“Nope! No panicking!” Chris commands, though his voice is beginning to take on a panicked edge, as well. “Why don’t we find Slughorn and ask him what we should do?”

“ _No,_ ” Derek says, paling. “What if we get in trouble?”

Chris groans. “Alright, fine. Who else can we go to?” Derek shrugs helplessly. “Justin?”

“Yes!” Derek says, relief coursing through him. He’s not sure why he hadn’t thought of that before.

“Okay, then we’ll go to Justin,” Chris says in a soothing voice. “He’ll know what to do, right?”

“Right,” Derek says. Justin is a smart seventh-year and he’s Derek’s friend. He’ll know exactly what to do.

\--

“You did _what?!_ ” Justin exclaims. He, Derek, Will, and Chris are standing in the middle of the Ravenclaw common room, which was fortunately empty of everyone except Adam, who stands next to Justin, looking far more amused than he has any right to be.

“I accidentally switched the love potion and the honesty potion and gave Will the love potion,” Derek says in a rush.

Justin stares. “How the hell did you manage to do that?”

“Can you please just tell me what to do so I can stop freaking out?”

“Okay, okay,” Justin says. “It’s gonna be fine. How long ago did you give him the potion?”

Derek glances over at Will to assess, and Will looks back at him, the stupid, dopey grin still on his face, even though they’re no longer holding hands. Derek feels his face burn and turns back to Justin. “Uh, almost thirty minutes ago.”

Justin considers this. “Okay. Let me see the potions, please?”

“They’re in here,” Derek says, and hands Justin his bag.

Justin rummages around inside Derek’s bag, peers at the contents for a second, looks back at Will, and says, “Yeah, he didn’t take a love potion.”

Derek blinks, stunned. “What?”

“How do you know?” Chris asks.

“Firstly, because he blatantly checked out Adam’s ass as soon as he walked in, which he wouldn’t have done if he’d taken a potion that made him fall in love with you.”

“I do have a great ass,” Adam agrees.

“And secondly,” Justin says, ignoring Adam, “The love potion bottle is empty because the top fell off and the potion spilled all in the bottom of your bag.”

Derek stares. “Oh,” he finally says in a small voice.

“So, that means…” Chris trails off.

“He didn’t take the love potion,” Justin finishes. “He’s just actually in love with you.”

Silence falls on the group, and everyone stares at Derek expectantly. “But he — ” Derek protests, looking between Chris, Justin, and Adam, who are all frowning concernedly. “I mean, there’s no way he really — ”

“Uh, guys.” Adam pipes up. “I think the potion is wearing off.”

Derek turns, and sure enough, Will is blinking rapidly and shaking his head, as if ridding himself of a bad dream. He smiles immediately when he sees Derek, and though it’s less intense, the smile is identical to the one Will was wearing a few minutes earlier, and Derek honestly doesn’t know how he’s just now piecing this all together.

He swallows.

Will glances around, surprised, at Adam, Justin, and Chris, who are watching him hesitantly. “Oh, hey guys.”

When no one says anything, Will frowns, then chuckles uncertainly. “What, did I say something really embarrassing or something?”

Derek grimaces.

He can place the exact moment when Will starts to remember. His brow unfurrows, recognition lights up his eyes, and all the blood drains from his face. Will buries his face in his hands. “Fuck.”

Derek reaches a hand out. “Hey, c’mon — ”

“Don’t.” Will grits out, pulling away and dropping his hands. His face is blotchy red, a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “How much did I…” Derek doesn’t answer, but his face must give it away, because Will sets his jaw. “I hate you,” he says.

Then he turns and bolts.

“Well, now we  _definitely_ know that the potion has worn off,” Adam says unhelpfully.

“Shut _up_ , Adam,” Derek growls, and chases after Will.

He finds him outside in the corridor, still running. “Will, wait!” He shouts. They travel down a few corridors before he finally catches up to him, wrenching Will’s arm back so he stops running and turns around to face him. “I — ”

“Save it, alright?” Will says angrily. Derek’s mouth snaps closed in surprise. “Was your plan the whole time just to humiliate me? Bring an audience so that they could laugh at me, too?”

Derek stares. “ _What?_ ”

“Probably just lying when you said that you'd take the potion after me,” Will says, fists clenched. “Were you hoping I’d admit that I’m stupidly in love with you or was that just an added bonus?”

Derek’s mind reels, and he opens his mouth to argue, but no sound comes out, still stuck on the words “stupidly in love with you.”

“I know you’re out of my league,” Will says with gritted teeth. “You don’t need to brag about it, or whatever.”

Will’s voice cracks slightly on the last word, and Derek takes a step forward. “Will, I’m not — I would _never_ do that — ”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Will sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry that I...you know.” He looks down, scuffs his shoe against the floor. “I know — I know you don’t feel that way about me, so you can save me the rejection and we...we can just forget about this whole thing, I guess.”

Derek shakes his head, takes another step forward, but Will keeps talking. “I’ll just…” He hesitates, and then manages a half smile, though it looks more like a grimace. “I’ll see you in Potions, okay?”

“Will, please, just — ” But Will is already turning away, and Derek finds he can do nothing but stare after him.

\--

Derek doesn’t see Will in Potions. He doesn’t show up in class the next day, or the day after that. So Derek turns in the assignment alone, and spends most of the rest of the class staring at Will’s empty seat with what he’s sure is an incredibly miserable expression.

The next day, Chris sits with Derek at the Ravenclaw table, though Derek is too busy moping to actually eat anything. He glances over at Chris, who is watching him with quiet concern.

Derek sighs. “Did you know?”

Chris frowns, sympathetic. “No. But I had a feeling.” At Derek’s inquisitive look, he shifts in his seat a little. “I don’t know. I mean, he talked about you all the time. And he spent weeks knitting that scarf.”

Derek swallows and looks down. “I feel like I’ve ruined everything,” he mumbles.

“Derek, come on,” Chris says gently, nudging him with his foot. “You didn’t ruin anything. He’ll come around soon. Maybe he just needs some space.”

“Yeah, but,” Derek rubs his face with his hands. “He doesn’t know that I — ” He cuts himself off and looks away. “I just feel like he should know,” he finally says.

“Well,” Chris says gently. “If you want to tell him so badly, maybe you should go find him.”

\--

It takes Derek about three hours to find Will. He’s not in his room, he’s not in the dining hall, and he’s not in the library. Finally, with nowhere else to go, Derek goes to the last place he can think of.

“You’re a tough guy to track, Poindexter,” Derek says as he approaches Will’s hunched over figure. He’s sitting next to Derek’s reading tree, where they’d stargazed only a couple months ago. For some reason, that night feels like forever ago, now.

When he hears Derek, Will looks up, immediately tense, and then his eyes drop back down to his book. “How did you find me?”

Derek shrugs. “Already checked all the other likely places, so. Figured you had to be here.”

Will sighs. “Okay, fine. What are you doing here, then?”

“I actually wanted to show you something,” Derek says, and reaches into his bag to pull out the remainder of the honesty potion.

Will’s eyes narrow. “What are you — ” But before he can say anything else, Derek is already downing the last of the potion. Will just stares at him, eyes wide.

“We never actually got around to my turn,” Derek explains, flopping onto the ground across from Will. “So I decided now would be a good time to get around to it. Go ahead, ask me anything you want.”

Will looks back down at his book and hunches his shoulders. “I don’t want to ask you anything.”

“Fine, then,” Derek says. “You can just listen, which I understand is a difficult concept for you to grasp.” Will glares and opens his mouth to interject, but Derek cuts him off. “Will. I’m in love with you, too. Okay?”

Will freezes. “You...what?”

“You’re smart, and you’re funny, and you’re passionate. And you make me a better Quidditch player, a better _person,_ even. And you just _care_ so much,” Derek says. “Like, _so much._ And I love that about you and I love that _I_ get to be one of the people you care about. It makes me happy,” he admits, and then adds, “ _You_  make me happy. Kinda stupidly happy. I just look forward to spending time with you, you know? I mean, I _always_ want to spend time with you.”

Will’s ears begin to turn red. “You — I — ”

“And I never told you,” Derek continues, “Because I didn’t think you felt the same way. And I thought that by telling you it’d make everything awkward, and that we’d stop being friends and it had already taken us _so long_ to become friends in the first place.”

Will doesn’t say anything, now, but his cheeks are pink and his eyes are wide and his gaze never wavers from Derek’s face.

“But the other night, when you took the potion…” Derek trails off and looks down at his lap. “And I was kind of panicking but you just kept smiling at me and holding my hand…” He clears his throat, and looks back up. “I want that with you. I wanted it before, too, but now that I know it’s a real option…” He laughs a little. “I really, really want it. I want you to tell your family more stories about me and I want to tell _my_ family stories about _you_ and I want to be one of those couples that holds hands and laughs at each other’s jokes that aren’t really that funny and everyone sort of hates them because they’re so cheesy and annoying and in love and — ”

But Derek doesn’t get to finish what was already a very long and mushy and embarrassing sentence because Will is suddenly leaning over and kissing him.

Derek has kissed people before. Quite a few, in fact. Not all of his kisses have been great — the first person he kissed, Penelope Hamilton, during third year, had breath that smelled like spinach. But Derek likes to think that the majority of his kisses over the course of his life have been decent — nice, in fact.

But when he’s kissing Will, Derek finds he can’t remember a single detail about any other kiss he’s ever had.

It’s a good kiss. Really, really good. Will’s lips are kind of chapped but mostly sort of soft, and his hands have made their way up to frame Derek’s face, his thumb gently brushing across Derek’s cheek. And when Derek responds enthusiastically, kissing back and moving his hands to grip Will’s shirt, pressing him back against the tree they’re sitting under, Will gasps a little into the kiss and that’s even better, honestly.

“I love you too,” Will says when he pulls away for air finally, sounding a little breathless and looking a little like he’d just run a marathon. “Like, a lot.”

“I know,” Derek says, trying to sound deadpan but failing due to the huge, idiotic smile on his face that he can’t seem to hide, which, on second thought, might be because of the effects of the potion. _Huh,_ Derek thinks to himself. _We did, like, a really good job on that._ “You made this huge confession to me the other night. It was super embarrassing.”

Will rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he says, and kisses Derek again.

**june.**

Before Derek can even blink, it’s June. His exams pass by in a blur of studying and stress, and before he knows it, the term is over, and he’s standing with Chris and Will outside Hogwarts grounds, waiting for the train to pick them up and take them back to London. Back home.

The past month at Hogwarts had passed pretty similarly to the rest of Derek’s sixth year, only instead, amidst studying and assignments, Derek had been able to kiss Will and hold his hand and pretend like his friends’ annoyance at their overly couple-y behavior was genuine, as if they weren’t secretly happy for them.

London is Derek’s home, because it’s where he grew up and it’s where his parents and his sister are, and he misses them terribly when he’s at Hogwarts. But Hogwarts is his home, too, and he’s going to miss it while he’s away, even if it’s only for a few months.

“You guys,” Chris says to Derek and Will now, as they wait for the train to arrive. “We’re going to be _seventh-years_ next year.”

It’s a thought that’s already crossed Derek’s mind. He’d said goodbye to Bitty, Jack, Shitty, Lardo, Justin, and Adam earlier, and if he’d shed a few tears afterwards, no one had to know. He’ll see them again, he knows, but Hogwarts won’t be the same next year without them. He can hardly even imagine not being a student at Hogwarts himself, something that will be a reality this time next year.

“Yeah,” Derek says finally. “It’s pretty unbelievable.”

“I’m gonna miss you guys over the summer,” Chris says, frowning.

“C, you’re going to see us _next month,_ ” Will reminds him, which is true — he, Derek, and Chris are staying with Will’s family in Ireland for a week in July.

“But I see you guys _every day_ ,” Chris says. Will rolls his eyes. “Don’t act like you two are going to be able to survive a month without snogging each other. You can barely survive a day.”

Will flushes, embarrassed, and Derek laughs. “It’s a sacrifice we’re going to have to make,” he says, though secretly, he’s not sure how he’s going to survive it, either. He’s already suggested that Will visit him in London during August, but Will had insisted he couldn’t afford it, that he’d be working all summer to help his family make some extra money and wouldn’t be able to take the time off.

Honestly, Derek will probably end up making a surprise trip to Ireland in August. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to last from July to September without seeing Will at least once.

“You know, I make fun of you guys for being an obnoxiously sappy couple because it’s fun,” Chris says. “But seriously, I’m really glad you guys are happy.”

Will flushes even further at that. It’s endearingly adorable.

“Also, it makes me feel like I’m allowed to talk about how awesome Cait is as often as I want,” Chris adds.

“I’m pretty sure you’d do that regardless,” Derek says dryly.

“True,” Chris agrees, and opens his mouth to say more — probably something about how awesome Caitlin Farmer is — when Derek hears the unmistakable whistle of the Hogwarts Express. Sure enough, within seconds, the train has pulled to a stop in front of them.

“Well,” Chris says, sounding a little forlorn. “Guess it’s time to go home.”

Will looks at Derek and takes his hand. “You ready?” He asks, and Derek’s not, really — he’s not ready for the long train drive, isn’t ready to miss Will, or Chris, or the rest of his friends, and isn’t ready to live with the knowledge that twelve months from now, he’ll be saying goodbye to his favorite place in the world.

He’s not ready, but when he turns to Will, who is beautiful, and freckle-y, and brave and kind in the most surprising of ways, Derek remembers that he’ll be by his side for their final year at Hogwarts and hopefully long after that, and thinks to himself that maybe he can be a ready, just a little bit.

“Yeah,” Derek says, and squeezes Will’s hand just once. “I’m ready.”

Will smiles at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Honestly in my head, this fic originally was JUST supposed to be the whole "potion experiment" scene and that was basically it, but then...I got a little carried away.
> 
> Also, if you're wondering why the set-up for potion experiment sounds exactly like a lab report......I'm a psych major. It just sorta happened naturally lol sorry.
> 
> Anyway, if you read this I really hope you enjoyed it!!! Feel free to leave a review or follow me on tumblr (nurseydereks) (Also idk how to put hyperlinks in the Notes like everybody else does so if someone wants to let me know how that'd be cool)


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